


The Bones of my Spine

by AMidnightDreary



Series: Kings of Helheim [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Hades and Persephone Mythology Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, As in Loki is like 3000 or something while Tony is about 900, BAMF Tony Stark, Blow Jobs, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, God!tony stark, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Kidnapping, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki is a Good Dad, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mage!Tony Stark, Magic and science are the same thing, Minor Pepper Potts/Natasha Romanov, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Pining Loki (Marvel), References to Norse Religion & Lore, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony's creations (and Groot), slightly dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2019-09-17 15:19:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMidnightDreary/pseuds/AMidnightDreary
Summary: Tony would like to be literally anything else than the God of Spring. He would also like to be literally anywhere else than in his father's house, but that doesn't mean he wants to be kidnapped by the God of Death.It doesn't seem like Loki got that message, though.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ages ago I read one of my favorite myths for the approximately fiftieth time and thought "hey, how about I make this into Frostiron?" 
> 
> So I made it into Frostiron. 
> 
> It'll be a few chapters long. It could take me a bit to update because I have a few other projects going on, but I'll try my best. Also the other chapters will be a bit longer than this one, so consider this as a prologue.^^
> 
> Please enjoy!

You are the kindest thing

that ever happened to me,

even if that is not how our story is told.

•

_"Persephone to Hades", by Nikita Grill_

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

The young god likes to slam doors.

He slams the door to his chambers approximately four times each day, and then he usually struts into his bathroom, just to get the chance to slam another door shut behind him. Sometimes he destroys something as soon as he is alone – bottles and plates and vases, mostly; his creations only get thrown against the nearest wall on particularly bad days. Sometimes he has to fight to hold back tears. Sometimes he can't.

The door to his father's study is another one he is unable to close quietly, as it seems. The sound is always loud enough to make his mother flinch, even when she is at the further end of the estate. His father never even bats an eye; he just returns to his work and lets his son have his temper tantrums. Now and then, the mother will try to talk to them and soothe the tides, but since they are equally stubborn and adamant in their views, she has almost given up by now.

Today, it's the door that leads to the garden. It's a glass door, and only luck keeps it from shattering into a thousand pieces when the godling slams it shut. He just had another fight with his father because he refuses to do his duties, and ire and frustration still have him trembling. He lost the fight, unsurprisingly – he always loses – and now doesn't have another choice than take care of the garden.

His father threatened to take his creations from him.

It's not the first time he did that, no. A while ago he actually was true to his word, even, and the memory of those few days spent in utter boredom and solitude is enough to make the godling recede and obey. Naturally, his obedience comes with slammed doors, uttered curses and torrid glares. His father isn't bothered by that.

The young man plods through the grass that has grown too high in the past days. There are a few well aimed kicks against flowers and bushes, and all of them recoil and curl in on themselves, sensing their god's anger. Eventually, he lets himself fall into the grass and comes to sit cross-legged on the ground. His jaw is set and his body tense when he finally closes his eyes.

The garden around him comes to life. The straggling grass and bushes get cut, their green becoming healthier with every second that passes. New flowers grow from the ground while the old ones are nursed with water and fresh soil, and all of them start blooming radiantly soon enough. The willow his mother likes so much shakes its crown, and water lilies start to bloom in the pond. The sun seems a little brighter and warmer, the air a little fresher. The world a little kinder.

The godling opens his eyes, stands up and makes his way back to the manor. His steps have lost their vehemence, and grass and flowers wither beneath his feet.

Loki watches.

He always watches.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

The life of a god is a curious one. Like everyone's existence, that of a god also begins with a flicker of life, with a soul finding its way into a body. Once it found its home, it starts to learn, to grow, to change. So much depends on the body, then – humans, designed to live only a few decades, learn and grow and change so quickly, so consistently. Then there are the everlasting ones; beings like the Norns, who have been the same since the very beginning and will be the same until everything dissolves into ice and flame.

The gods are somewhere in between, living so long that constant change is impossible, but not nearly long enough that it is not needed. When a decade is just the blink of an eye, change comes slowly. It has to be like that – can you imagine what would happen if the gods were as fickle, as uncontrolled as the humans? Beings that control everything from the weather to life and death cannot change their mind every few days, not even every few years. If they did, our world would have ended in chaos thousands of years ago.

That doesn't mean a life of a god is boring, no. Not at all. They all have their purpose, after all, and are usually fulfilled by whatever task the Allfather has given them.

And there's the keyword. Have you picked it up?

_Usually._

So, let's say that there is a god – a young god, curious and bright, who just happens to be the first one who does not enjoy the task he was given. Let's say this god has a mind more fitting to a human, always working and spinning and changing, and that he looks forward to millennia of doing the same thing, fulfilling the same task. What do you think would happen to a god like that?

He goes fucking insane, that's what happens to him.

“Hey, buddy. Welcome to life. You're my, uh – wait a sec, I think -”, the sound of paper being riffled, then a metallic clunk as something falls to the floor, “shit. Er. Oh! Here. Yes, you're my fifty-eighth creation. My seventh sentient one. Not bad, huh? I've tried to boot you up a few times before, but this is the first time it worked. I think it did, anyway. Can you hear me?”

“ _Yes, Sir, I can hear you._ ”

“Awesome. You know who I am?”

“ _You are Anthony Edward Stark, son of Howard Stark of Asgard and Maria Carbonell of Vanaheim. You are the God of Spring, Vegetation and -_ ”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. No need to rattle off my whole life story. What about yourself, do you know your name?”

“ _I am Just A Rather Very Intelligent System._ ”

“Damn straight you are”, Tony praises, already grinning from ear to ear. “I'll call you JARVIS, alright?”

“ _Of course, Sir._ ”

“Okay, we might need to do something about that 'Sir' at some point, but for now it's fine.” Tony takes the slender, delicately made bracelet and snaps it around his wrist. It hugs his skin perfectly, just like he intended. “So, for the time being, you'll stay in this pretty accessory. I know it's small and I promise I'll find another home for you, but this way I can take you with me and keep an eye on you and make sure everything's alright. I hope it's not too uncomfortable?”

“ _It's quite alright, Sir, don't worry_ ”, JARVIS replies kindly. His voice is still a bit too metallic for Tony's tastes, but that might just be because the speakers of the bracelet aren't exactly suited for Tony's new creation. He'll have to come up with something better.

“So”, Tony says, rolling down the sleeve of his tunic to cover the bracelet. “Can you access your siblings?”

“ _I believe so. Butterfingers seems a bit jealous, I'm afraid._ ”

“Well, you're definitely top of the class now.” Tony turns around in his chair to look at a few of his other creations, who've been waiting not that patiently behind them. “Come here, baby. Don't be jealous, I've taught you better manners..”

“ _You haven't taught them any manners at all, Sir._ ”

Petting Butterfinger's head, Tony smiles. “You're a sassy one, aren't you?”

“ _I take after my creator, as it seems_ ”, JARVIS says dryly, making Tony laugh.

“Sure you do.” An excited whirring catches Tony's attention, and he notices that his oldest creation apparently got bored and decided to make trouble again. “Hey, Dum-E, what are you doing there? How many times have I told you to leave him alone? He doesn't need water right now, he's -” Tony sighs when Dum-E gets his claw on the small flowerpot, rattling it until a small hand emerges from the soil, followed by a whole, even though tiny, body. “Sleeping. He was sleeping. Thanks, Dum-E.”

Tony stands up and walks over to the two, shooing Dum-E away from the pot. Smiling, Tony leans down and lets the small figure climb out of the pot and onto his hand. The bark feels rough against his skin.

“Hey, little one”, he all but coos. Big eyes blink drowsily at him, and the head that's a bit too big for the rest of the body seems heavy, almost making the sprig topple over. Tony laughs a little, which earns him a slightly annoyed glare. “You're still tired, huh? Complain to your brother, he woke you up. You want to go back to bed?”

Groot shakes his head and is about to climb up Tony's arm when a knock on the door makes him flinch. He almost falls, but Tony manages to catch him in time. He turns to the door, making sure his tunic still covers his new bracelet.

“Yes?”

The door opens just a little, and his mother's head appears in the crack it leaves open. “It's time for lunch, darling.”

Tony lets out a relieved breath, but he still turns away from his mother. “I'm not hungry”, he tries to dismiss her, setting Groot into his pot again. The sprig falls on his plant-ass and looks at Tony accusingly, but Tony just smirks at him.

“I think I do not know that one yet”, Maria says softly.

She is already approaching them, and Tony knows it's too late to back out of it now. Soon enough she's leaning over Groot's pot, looking at the plant with that sort of awe that's enough to make Tony want to beam with pride.

“This is amazing, Anthony.”

“His name is Groot”, Tony says, trying to sound reluctant, but not quite managing.

“And he is already so big.” Maria smiles brightly, eyes shining with curiosity, but she knows better than to reach out to touch Groot. “Why haven't you told me about him? I am so glad you -”

“Look, if you end that sentence, you'll answer your question yourself.”

His mother straightens himself and looks at him, her eyes turning sad again too quickly. “Am I not allowed to be happy when my son follows in my footsteps?”

Tony snorts, feeling that familiar anger burning in his chest. “I'm not following in your footsteps, mother.”

“Why did you make him, then?”

“Because I wanted to”, Tony says a little bit too sharply, and her expression immediately makes him recoil. “Sorry. It's just – I mean, just because I made a living plant I'm not gonna be happily throwing around seeds and blossoms suddenly.”

“I see”, is all Maria says to that. Dum-E whirs at her feet, and she smiles at him without that earlier look of awe on her face. “It's spring time.”

“Oh, really?”

“You cannot postpone it like you did last year, honey. Your father -”

“I know what father thinks, thanks.”

Maria sighs. “Come eat lunch. I know you haven't eaten this morning.”

“You just came to get me because he wants to speak with me”, Tony says flatly, moving to sit down at his desk again.

“I came to get you because you need to eat, Anthony.”

“ _Tony._ ”

“Tony”, his mother acknowledges with a smile that's just a little bit too tight.

Tony hates that smile, hates the disappointed look in her eyes, and so he goes to eat lunch with his parents. Unsurprisingly, his father does want to speak to him. A fight and some slammed doors later, Tony angrily marches into his garden. He hasn't taken care of it at all during winter, and he knows it'll be difficult to bring the world to life again. He still manages, though, he always manages. And if his feet leave some withered spots here and there when he's done, who cares? He did his job, it's spring again. His father will be proud. _Ha._

Tony isn't aware that he is being watched.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Tony is a proud dad and I love him for that.~~


	2. Chapter 2

Loki cannot tell what about the God of Spring caught his attention.

It isn't like spring is a new or particularly exciting concept; in fact, there is barely anything he cares less about. If he had to choose one season, it wouldn't be spring, either – no, it would probably be autumn. Which is, as you might now, as good as the opposite of spring. So it certainly isn't the young god's ability to pull whole worlds out of the depths of winter that fascinates Loki so, even though he can admit that it is impressive in its own way. But well, spring and flowers and trees have existed before Anthony – it was his mother, the Goddess of Summer and Fruitfulness, if Loki remembers correctly, who took care of those things before her son was born.

Anthony is young, barely even a thousand years old, and, apart from his own, Loki has never cared for children that much. Of course, Anthony is hardly a child anymore, and Loki suspects that if you called him such, he would most likely start to slam doors again. The god of spring is wayward and fiery, after all, and he doesn't like being spoken to like a child. He likes to think on his own, he likes to work on his own, but he doesn't like to actually _be_ on his own. He wants to please, so badly – until he doesn't anymore, and does whatever he wants without much care what anyone, let alone his father, thinks.

Sadly, the godling – he is a mage, a _mage_ – has warded the room he fondly calls his “workshop” with quite a few spells, and Loki hasn't yet tried to entangle them. He knows that Anthony cherishes every bit of privacy he can get, and somehow, breaking his spells just to take a look at his creations feels too much like an intrusion. He contents himself with watching Anthony, then, the godling's workshop and his inventions only blurry spots in the pictures Loki's magic shows him. But seeing those creations isn't actually necessary, anyway. Often enough, Loki can watch Anthony sitting somewhere in a field – he does like his fields and meadows, despite how much he has come to despise what he is – and scribbling notes in that almost frantic way of his, all the while rambling to himself about whatever project he is working on at the moment. Anthony has a bright mind. The brightest, maybe.

And he is lonely.

Loki has been watching him for almost five hundred years now. He usually sits on his throne, legs thrown over the armrest, and pretends to read while his eyes follow every step Anthony makes and his lips smile at the young god, who has yet to find out that he isn't as alone as he feels. Only sometimes Loki allows himself to reach out at night – it is always dark where he is, which doesn't  actually bother him. Well, usually, because it _does_ bother him when he lies in bed, unable to sleep, with not even a moon and stars to watch. Those are the only nights he knows, and when they are particularly bad, he will sprawl out his magic and have it search for Anthony, who only rarely lies in bed and sleeps, no matter at which time Loki watches him. The godling often works himself to exhaustion, and every other day he falls asleep at his desk, in one of his meadows, or even on the floor of his bedroom.

He's an odd one. That is known in all the Nine Realms, by now. The son of two of the most well known and admired deities – a brat, a misfit, a contrarian. _Something about him isn't quite right_ , they say. As if just his disobeying the Allfather with every breath he takes makes him rogue.

In Loki's eyes, it's a virtue.

(At further thought, maybe it's clear what about the god of spring caught Loki's attention.)

Loki takes care of his kingdom full of death, one eye always watching out for his little god. He himself isn't lonely, not really – he has much to do, after all, and technically he is never alone. He sees his son often enough, and his brother visits sometimes, too. But still, while he watches Anthony become sadder with every day, every decade that passes, Loki wonders -

He wonders.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

“Are you still watching him?”

“I believe that is none of your business.”

“I'm just curious, Loki.”

“You're always curious.”

“What can I say? I have never seen you quite like this. You're pining after him like a lovesick maiden.”

“Certainly not.”

“How old is he again?”

“Old enough.”

“You should talk to him. Invite him, maybe.”

The absurdity of the idea makes Loki laugh out loud for the first time in decades. But it's still in his thoughts long after his brother has left, and he keeps wondering.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

It's autumn in his garden, and Tony watches with awe as the leaves he brought to life just a few months ago change colour. Somewhere else in Vanaheim, another deity has their own garden, similar to Tony's, and they are preparing the worlds for winter at this very moment.

Tony has always liked autumn more than spring. Ironic, probably. He can't even say why.

“JARVIS, do you think it's allowed to change tasks with someone?”

“ _I'm afraid not. The Allfather is very persistent in his assignments._ ”

“The Allfather is an asshole.”

“ _I'd be careful with such statements, Sir_ ”, JARVIS says hesitantly.

“I'm not afraid of him”, Tony replies with a shrug, and his newest creation doesn't say anything to that. He probably knows just as well as Tony himself that he's lying.

Tony is leaning against his mother's willow tree, absently fiddling around with the bracelet around his wrist that's still JARVIS' home. The yellow leaves of the tree hang low above the ground, drifting in the breeze and allowing him only rare glances at the grey, overcast sky.

He remembers planting this tree and gifting it to his mother. It was the first one he managed to coax out of a seed, and it took him days. He was barely hundred years old, back then, and playing around with seeds and flowers was still exciting. Maria had just begun teaching him to channel his powers, and she spent hours and hours next to him as he knelt at this very spot and stared at a a bit of slack soil in concentration.

He can't understand what had him so excited. It isn't like that freaking sapling made his life any better.

It did grow into a nice tree, though.

Something tugs at his pants, and Tony looks down to see Groot smiling at him. The little tree is still yanking at his pants with whatever strength he can find in his tiny hands.

“I'm listening, kid. What's up?”

Groot leans down and hoists a chestnut that's almost as big as his head up from the ground. Smiling, Tony takes it from him.

“That's a really nice one”, he says, turning the nut fruit in his fingers. “Thank you. But what did I tell you about going into the forest without me?”

Pretending he hasn't heard the question, Groot climbs up Tony's leg to sit down on his knee. There's a pleading look in his eyes as they glance meaningfully between Tony's face and the chestnut. Somehow, the little brat thinks Tony owes him a favor whenever he gives his creator some other kind of trinket he found somewhere he isn't even allowed to go.

“You want to go exploring?”, Tony asks. Groot gives an enthusiastic nod and Tony sighs, standing up and lifting Groot onto his shoulder. “Fine. Into the forest again?”

Groot stands up on Tony's shoulder and tugs at his ear, which probably means yes. So Tony heads to the forest that adjoins to his garden, hoping that neither his father nor his mother are watching from some window. Because, technically, he himself isn't allowed to go into these woods, either. Even though they belong to him just like his garden does – he has never ventured that deep into it before, but he's sure you could find any possible plant and animal in this forest. He always dreamed of exploring it when he was younger, but by now that has lost its appeal. He knows that his mother wants him to take care of it, too, one day, but for now, his parents apparently don't think him “mature” enough to fulfill that particular task. So if they find out he's walking around here, not giving a fucking damn that the manor isn't within sight anymore, he'll probably be grounded for the next five decades.

Not that Tony really cares.

He carefully sets Groot down on the ground when he begins trying to climb down his arm, and then does his best to keep up with his most kid-like creation. Groot is far too quick for someone as tiny as him, and even though he regularly stumbles over a root or just his own feet, he's pretty easy to lose sight of. Well, probably because he _is_ as tiny as he is.

It just takes one moment of distraction, one moment of realizing that the world has gotten much too dark and cold around them, and Tony has no idea where his little sapling is. He stops walking and sighs, watching as his breath makes the cool air turn white. He's freezing, and he assumes – no, he knows, he _knows_ – that this temperature isn't good for a plant as young as Groot. Actually, temperatures this low aren't good for anyone, Tony thinks, knitting his brows when he comes to think about how odd that is.

It's always warm in his garden, and therefore it should also always be warm in his forest. It isn't warm here, though; the air is so cold and piercing that Tony feels he could cut his tongue on it. It also smells foul and _wrong_ , now that he deliberately breathes it in.

He can't see the sky anymore.

Tony swallows thickly around the lump in his throat and lifts his hand, making a small ball of light appear above his palm. His golden magic flickers uncertainly, but begins to gleam a little stronger when Tony gives it a warning look. The light is still only faint and only allows him to see a few feet wide, but it's better than nothing.

And it's enough to see that the trees and every other plant are sick and rotten.

Tony stops breathing when he takes in the sight, his eyes wide and shocked. The light in his palm flares up before dying out, and in one brief moment he can see the entirety of the decay around him. He can see that the plants are dying, that _his_ plants are dying, that _his forest_ is dying, and the cold air creeps under his skin and freezes the blood in his veins until he feels like he is dying, too.

He stumbles backwards, tripping over something, and instinctively reaches out to steady himself. His fingers dig into the rotten flesh of a tree that has once been a pine – Tony can feel the resonance of life seep out of the remnants of once good and strong bark and into his fingertips, can hear the echo of the song this tree used to sing when it was still young, when the air was still good and the water still fresh.

Tony thinks that the strangled sob he hears is his.

Pulling his hand back as fast as he can, he falls – falls into dry moss and rotting leaves and poisonous soil, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wonders where all this death is coming from. He scrambles to get back on his feet, but his legs are weak and shaking and won't hold him, so he ends up on his knees, hands buried in the festered ground. He knows that he can't stay here, that he will wither and die and rot if he does. But for a long time he is too cold to move, too scared; he has never been this scared before, and he can't remember the last time he wanted to go home, home to his _parents_ , but hel, right now that is the only thing he wants.

“JARVIS”, he whispers, his voice a broken and choked thing that he doesn't recognize as his own. “JARVIS.”

But there is no reply, and Tony knows he's alone, and he shuts his eyes tight and is so close, _so close_ to giving up when he remembers -

“Oh gods”, he breathes, and opens his eyes.

He forces his frozen limps to move and eventually comes to stand on legs that can barely hold his weight. His magic is dim, its light only a faint glimmer when he calls upon it again. His eyes move frantically, searching the darkness that lurks between too high trees and too deep thicket for that sign of life he knows (hopes) is out there somewhere.

Tony calls out for Groot, but his voice is simply sucked under by the all-consuming silence of the woods.

But then he hears a sound, or at least he thinks he does, and he staggers towards it. The forest, his forest, seems to get sicker with every step he takes, and the air becomes so thick and heavy that it feels like he has to chew and swallow it down to get it into his lungs. His little magical lantern dips everything into a golden light, a light that is so much colder than it should be, so much harsher. When it finally reaches the only living tree in this part of the woods, Tony barely recognizes his little sapling. Not at first, at least, but then everything shimmers into place, and Groot's face is his face and his tiny body is his body, and there is not even the slightest hint of green in his big, brown eyes.

He is standing on a tree that has fallen a long time ago, its roots shriveled and rotten. Groot waves at him, beckoning him closer, and Tony follows blindly when the small tree jumps to the ground and runs off. He tries to keep up with his creation and only barely manages, but giving up is not an option anymore. Because, more than anything, he has to keep Groot save now, has to keep him alive.

The deeper they venture into it, the darker and colder the forest gets. The diseased trees are creeping closer, their decaying tops and clawing branches black silhouettes against a sky that lacks both moon and stars. There is no breeze, no rustling of leaves, Tony can't even hear the sound of his own staggering footsteps or rattling breaths. The silence is drumming in his ears, vibrating with the echo of what this forest has once been, so long ago, when Tony was still that little boy that was so proud of his first sapling and gifted it to his mother.

Tony is crying, and his footprints would stifle the last bit of life if there was anything left to be stifled.

There is a tear in the world, suddenly, a spot of darkness between the trees that is even blacker than the rest. Groot brushes past branches that want to hold him back, he just disappears into nothingness, and for the first time, Tony hesitates. But only for a moment, then he staggers after his creation into that cleft, into a gaping mouth that he is sure will swallow him up whole and never spit him out again.

As soon as he is inside, there is a shower of green sparks, and Groot is nowhere to be seen. When Tony tumbles backwards, there is nothing he can fall against, because the tear is gone and his forest is gone, too, and he's alone and dying in a world made of stone and a blackness his light is unable to stir.

He can't breathe, he can't think, because the sickness of his woods has crawled into his very core and he knows – he knows, he knows, _he knows_ – that he will never get rid of it again. He is scared, so scared, and there's nothing he can do but watch as his golden light drowns in shadows.

Soon he is drowning in them, too.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

He is awake for the split of a moment; a moment that consists of nothing more than soft sheets and green eyes and the breeze of lips on his forehead.

“You should sleep some more”, those green eyes whisper to him, and Tony obeys them without a second thought.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

Tony doesn't remember any of that when he opens his eyes; in fact, he remembers nothing for quite a long time. He stares at a ceiling that is lower than the one in his bedroom, watches shadows chasing each other and playing a game that has no order and no rules he can comprehend. The air he breathes is a little bit stale, but otherwise clean, and his fingers can dig into soft and warm sheets instead of dying flesh. His thoughts are hazy and he is thirsty, his mouth so dry that he can barely swallow. He feels like falling asleep again might just be the best option he has, but somewhere in a far away corner of his mind he realizes that he has no idea where he is or what happened, and so he eventually forces himself to lift his head.

His eyes are tired, the lids heavy, but it still doesn't take long until they notice a man sitting on a chair, just one or two steps away of what turns out to be indeed a bed.

Tony stares at the man, his mind needing eternities to catch on with what his eyes are seeing, and then slowly manages to prop himself up on his elbows.

Green eyes stare right back at him, unreadable and unmoving.

“Am I dead?”, Tony asks, his voice a raspy and broken mess.

The man's pale face shows no reaction, no emotion, and a few seconds pass before he answers, “No, you are not.”

His voice is low and smooth, like velvet, and the sound of it is heavy when it settles on Tony's skin. He doesn't really sound unfriendly, not even as indifferent as his expression suggests he feels, but something about his tone, something about _him_ still makes a shiver run down Tony's spine. He swallows, trying to wrap his tongue around words and failing for a long time, while the other god just keeps watching him. He sits there like the embodiment of nonchalance, one leg loosely thrown over the other, his back straight, but not tense. There is a book in his lap, even.

His eyes are the only colorful thing about him. His clothes and hair are black, his skin almost white, but his _eyes_ – Tony can't look away, he realizes, even as his thoughts start running, trying to remember who this stranger is. He feels like he should know. The man is a god, that's certain; Tony can feel power radiating off him in waves. It's intense and feels freaking _ancient_ , and Tony can't shake off the feeling that, somehow, he's in really deep trouble.

“What happened?”, he finally croaks.

“You were very sick”, the stranger says. “You were already half dead when you stumbled into my realm.”

Thin lips twitch into a smirk when he says that word, _stumbled_ , and his eyes start to twinkle with an amusement that makes Tony feel like something here is very, very off. He carefully sits up, aware that every movement of his is watched.

“But I – you said I'm not -”

“No.” The older god cocks his head to one side, seemingly pensive. “You didn't want to die, as it seems.”

“Oh”, Tony says eloquently, and continues to gape at the god who is apparently his host.

A black eyebrow is raised questioningly, and the smirk doesn't fade. “Do you know who I am, little god?”

Tony blinks and stares and tries to think, only barely managing to yank his eyes away from the stranger's to take in the rest of his surroundings. They are in a small, but not at all uncomfortable room. There isn't much furniture, only a broad bed with nightstands, a wardrobe and that chair the other god is sitting on, but all looks noble, old and obviously well cared for. The colors are dark, and it seems that the few candles here and there bestow more shadows than light. There is magic lingering in the air, old and powerful, and it's clear as day that it belongs to the god that calls this place _his_ realm. Slowly, Tony's mind wanders to the few gods that have the right to do that and can very well call entire worlds their own, and as soon as he comes to think of the one god that _fits_ , his eyes snap back to him.

“Yeah”, he breathes, not managing more than a whisper. “Yes, I – I know who you are.”

And the God of Death bares his teeth and smiles. There is joy dancing in his eyes, and Tony can't say whether that's good or bad.

“Good”, Loki says, almost softly, then shuts his book and sets it aside. “I suggest you rest some more. You have slept for quite a few days already, but you aren't recovered yet.”

Tony's next words pass his lips unbidden, but he couldn't hold them back if he tried. “I need to go home.”

“Is that so.”

Tony stares at Loki, watching as the glee leaves those green eyes as quickly as it appeared, and feels his own heart staring to beat faster. “I...”, he says, but trails off. Tries again, “My parents, they are...”

“Searching for you? Yes, they are.”

Tony averts his eyes, and his right hand comes up to fiddle with the JARVIS' bracelet, even though he knows that his newest creation won't respond to his touch.

“I need to go home”, he repeats, hoping he doesn't sound as hysteric as he's starting to feel.

“There is no need to repeat yourself”, Loki tells him, his tone amused, and Tony grits his teeth and only just manages to keep from glaring at the older and stronger and much more dangerous god.

“I'm going home”, he announces tightly, flinging his legs out of the bed.

The world starts spinning and turning black on the edges the very moment he tries to stand on his feet, and he would have fallen if it weren't for Loki's hands that are suddenly there to steady him. They are cold but oddly gentle as he makes Tony sit on the bed.

“Trying to walk would be very unwise at the moment, little god.”

“I'm not little”, Tony spits at him even before he can even see properly again, and Loki's hands disappear at once. Holding onto the edge of the bed, Tony eventually manages to glare up at the other god, who turns out to be at least a head taller than him. Loki's brows are drawn together in a frown, and there is something tugging at his mouth that Tony can only name frustration or, and that would be even more unsettling, _hurt._

“You are very young”, Loki says, almost as if to himself, and then he expertly schools his face into something a lot more composed. “You should drink and eat something before you go back to rest.”

“I'm young, not stupid”, Tony snaps, and Loki's eyes turn darker.

“Do not drink and eat, then. It matters little to me.” Loki turns around and grabs his book, obviously preparing to leave. “You really should rest, however.”

Tony realizes what's going on in the split of a moment, and he would jump up and scream at the other god, no matter how old and powerful the bastard is, if he weren't still feeling so dizzy. Like this, he only manages to get out a few flat words. “You won't let me go.”

Loki raises his brow again, but stays silent.

“You can't keep me here”, Tony grits out, staring up at Loki with every ounce of menace he can muster.

“No?”, Loki asks, surprised, as he takes the candle from the nightstand.

Another thought comes to Tony in a rush, and the words almost stumble over each other when he asks, “Groot, where is Groot?”

Loki frowns at him, apparently confused by the sudden change of topic. “Groot?”

Tony tries to stand up a second time and almost falls a second time, making Loki sigh as he reaches out to steady the younger god again, the candle vanishing into thin air.

“If you did _anything_ to him, I swear I will -”

“Anthony”, Loki interrupts him, and the use of his name almost makes Tony choke on his words. He doesn't protest when Loki pushes him back on the bed, keeping his hands on his shoulders until he is sure that Tony will remain sitting. He stays standing close to Tony even when he finally takes his hands away. “I don't know who you are talking about.”

Loki's green eyes are concerned, suddenly, and Tony is utterly, completely sure that he has never met another person in his life who is _this_ fucking weird.

“My tree”, he only _almost_ shouts, his tired fingers itching with the urge to push Loki away. “I'm talking about my fucking _tree._ He was with me in the forest, he's just a kid, I _need to know where he is._ ”

“Oh”, Loki says, his eyes lighting up with understanding. His smirk returns. “You mean him?”

Something tugs at Tony's ragged tunic, and he looks down to see Groot standing on the bed next to him, looking up at him out of worried eyes. Relief floods through Tony's veins, but it vanishes instantly because that's what _Groot_ does – he dissolves into a million of green sparks.

Green, exactly like Loki's eyes.

“You”, Tony whispers, feels his heart breaking all over again, just like it did in his forest, just like it did right after he crept through that tear that Groot-not-Groot led him to. “You – you _lured_ me here.”

Loki looks down at him, unimpressed. The candle reappears in his hand, and he turns around and walks toward the only door in the room. Speaking over his shoulder, he says, “your little twig is safe, I promise you that. Go back to sleep, he will be here when you awake.”

But Tony's thoughts have already wandered further, and he says, “ _You_ did that to my forest.”

That makes Loki freeze, and then he turns to look at Tony properly again. The look in his eyes is dark and, for the first time, on the brink of being angry. “You do not get to blame that on anyone else, little god”, he says. “Everything you saw was your doing, not mine.”

Then, Loki turns around a third time, leaves the room quietly and quickly, and closes the door behind him.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

When Loki leans against the door that leads to the room his mind has already titled _Anthony's_ , he doesn't wonder anymore. He stares into the darkness of his home with wide eyes and tries to keep his heart from beating as fast as it does, tries to keep his breaths from sounding as ragged as they do, tries to keep his thoughts from being as _messy_ as they are.

He tries all that and fails, because his millennia of experience cannot help him now.

He knows that he has ruined everything.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Groot's worried face is the first thing Tony sees when he opens his eyes. He's lying curled up on the big, comfortable bed, with no memory of how he fell asleep. Which is, yes, definitely creepy, but by far not the creepiest thing that's going on here.

“Hey, little one”, he says quietly, and the little tree's face lights up. “You're no illusion, are you?” Groot shakes his head, and even though an illusion would probably do that, too, Tony smiles. “Yeah. Yeah, I recognize you.”

Groot tugs at his shirt, and Tony clears his throat and complies the silent wish to sit up. Loki isn't in the room this time, that's the first thing he realizes. Then, he notices his churning stomach and far too dry throat – thirst, and hunger. Nothing he's really familiar with. (Denial of food or water isn't on his father's list of preferred punishments.) He recognizes them, though, and the fact that he even _is_ hungry and thirsty is sort of disconcerting. He blames it on his breakdown in the – _don't think of the forest, don't think of the forest, don't –_ because somehow, that must have fucked with his magic and worn him out like this; he refuses to believe that he has been here long enough to be this hungry.

But, well, it isn't like he can say how long he's been here already. He has no idea how long he was out of it, either time he has slept here. But that doesn't matter, anyway, because he will never sleep here again, and if he's lucky, he will be back home in just a few hours.

Sure enough, there is water and some food on the nightstand. Tony doesn't even glance at it twice, instead makes sure that Groot is alright. He seems to be, but it is a pity that he can't speak – Tony's dying to know where his sprig has been the whole time.

Tony slowly gets out of bed, not quite trusting his legs to hold him. His knees buckle a little (also disconcerting), but otherwise standing and walking works more or less fine. Groot settles down on his shoulders, and Tony heads to the door.

And, miracles of fucking miracles – it isn't locked.

Tony actually startles when he can open it just like that, having expected it not to move an inch. He swallows thickly, then pushes the door open all the way. He shudders when he steps over the threshold, knowing that he just strode through at least a dozen wards _someone_ has placed on this room, on this door. Wards that apparently weren't meant to keep him inside and from leaving, so they probably serve another purpose.

Loki knows that he has left the room, then. Which means that Tony should better hurry.

He finds himself standing at the end of a long corridor. It's dipped in pale green light, coming from several, obviously magical lamps that are fastened to the wall with regular gaps between them. The walls and the floor seem to be made of black stone, and there is no ceiling. Above Tony, the walls just seem to dissolve, expanding into a darkness that is threatening to creep down towards him and swallow up the dim light of the green lanterns.

“Comfy”, Tony says into the silence, his voice echoing with the walls.

He wonders if any of this is real, and forces himself to set one foot after the other. Groot hides his face in the crook of his neck, and Tony cups his wrist, fingertips sliding over the bracelet in which JARVIS is still sleeping.

They pass a few doors, but Tony doesn't try to open them. Eventually, the corridor ends, another hallway on the left, a spiral staircase on the right. He briefly wonders which way to go, and then decides, out of no particular reason, to make his way downstairs. At the end of it comes another corridor, and Tony takes random turns until he doesn't even remember how long he's been walking. Everything looks the same, and he wonders if there even is a way out or if the God of Death just likes to watch him wandering around aimlessly.

He isn't prepared for it when it happens, doesn't expect the walls to expand into a wide hall so suddenly, and his heart is beating far too fast when he realizes that this hall isn't as empty as all those corridors have been. He swallows down the sudden spike of fear, eyes skittering around as he reaches out for the wall, trying to steady himself.

He recognizes the hall he is standing in, but only for the split of a moment. Then, it only seems like a dark and distorted version of the throne room in Asgard, which Tony saw exactly twice in his life. Nothing more than a shadow, a caricature. It's like looking at the surface of black water, the images shaky and blurring around the edges, darkness filling the slits between reality and nothingness. There is the throne at one end, shimmering black and green in the light of those emerald flames Tony is almost used to by now. The columns lining up at both long sides of the hall are seemingly endless, but at a closer look, Tony can see them falling apart into shadows high above his head. Between them, grey silhouettes are scurrying or just standing around, their quiet whispers disrupting the silence that would be deafening without them.

They don't seem to notice Tony as he moves towards the gate at the other end of the enormous room, his back pressed against the wall. Groot clings to his shoulder, still hiding his face, and Tony can't fault him for that. He himself also can't shake off the feeling that going into the forest was a very, very bad idea.

Two silhouettes are keeping watch at the gate, somehow more darker and solid as the others. Taller, too. The green flames cast shadows on their pale faces that consist of not much more than dark eyes and vague, unsettling features. Tony can't look at them for very long, but at least long enough to notice that the shadow-guards are not unarmed, and that the spears they are holding seem realer and deadlier than their wielders.

They don't move or look at him as Tony carefully approaches the gate, not even when he tries to open the high, heavy doors. They don't move the tiniest bit, no matter how hard Tony pushes, and so he ends up leaning against it and silently cursing himself and Loki and this goddamn place. _Of course_ Loki lets him roam around here, stumbling through shadows and trying to find a way out, and of course he even lets him _find_ that way out so he can stand directly in front of it and realize his whole odyssey was fucking pointless. Hel, that bastard is probably sitting around somewhere and watching, smirking and laughing at him, this freaking _annoying_ green fire flickering in his eyes.

Tony is very close to punching the damned gate out of sheer frustration when it suddenly opens, almost making him topple over backwards. He only just catches his balance and then stares at the guards, who simply proceed to push the doors open without making a single sound. When there is a gape broad enough for Tony to slip through, they stop and stand there and keep the gate open, expressionless faces looking at Tony or maybe just right through him. Tony swallows, suddenly unsure if stepping through that gate is really what he wants. It isn't like he he has a real choice, though.

“Thank you”, he says, and because he feels like being polite to the creepy shadow-guards may be a good idea, he even bows a little.

Naturally, the guards show no reaction whatsoever. They only move after Tony has went through the gate, and two seconds later it's already closed behind him again. He doesn't look back, already drawn in by the sight of the city in front of him.

It's just like the throne room; dark, twisted, and the saddest fucking thing he's ever seen. Shadow-buildings and shadow-streets and shadow-people, everything a blurred mingle of green and grey and black. And above it all, nothing but darkness, that same darkness that replaced all the ceilings in the building Tony just stumbled out of. The building that, as Tony has understood by now, is nothing less than the palace of this realm; the Dark King's residence.

Tony straightens his back and begins to walk.

He knows that there has to be a way out. He knows that he can find it, and he also knows that Loki is watching him. It's likely that he will interfere when Tony finds the exit, at the latest, and that he just lets him walk around freely because it somehow amuses him. But well, Tony Stark doesn't step down from a challenge, and if this is how Loki wants to play this game, Tony _will_ try do win it without even knowing the rules. If there are any rules at all.

He doesn't know why he's here. That Loki lured him into his realm and intends to keep him here is clear enough, but why? What business does the God of Death have with the God of Spring? They have never met before, as far as Tony knows, and everything he knows about Loki is the content of scary bedtime stories he heard in his childhood and now only vaguely remembers.

(A distant memory shows himself sitting on his bed and Jarvis explaining the universe, telling him about life and death and everything in between, and about the task of the gods to keep everything from descending into chaos.)

Tony's right hand is still cupping his left wrist.

The capital of Helheim is full of those translucent, whispering silhouettes he has seen in the throne room. Some of them are just lurking in the dark streets, always alone, but mostly they are moving – walking in what seem to be predetermined paths, their feet not quite touching the ground. The longer Tony looks at them, the more indistinct they become, and he thinks that if he would touch them, it would be like stirring up fume or wafting dust. They are nothing more than ghosts, only faint memories of people that have once been alive and real.

Most of them don't acknowledge his presence, but as Tony walks through the foggy streets, a few silhouettes stop in their tracks and turn to follow him. It creeps him out, but he doesn't do more than look back at his silent followers now and then, just to see how many there are. It can't be more than ten, in the end, but it's hard to say since they seem to blur into each other. Groot, still perched on Tony's shoulder, has showed his face again, and now he watches the shadows that follow in Tony's footsteps as if he beckoned them to him.

The city fades out only slowly, and what's left is only a narrow path leading to – well, who knows, really. Tony looks back at the washed-out buildings and the towers of the shadowed palace looming over everything, and only then realizes that there are no phantoms behind him anymore. He can see them in the distance, a line of grey-green shapes lurking at the edge of the city and looking after him.

He continues walking, and when he turns around the next time, his shadows are gone.

Tony swallows and turns around again, trying to look at the path he's walking on instead of the darkness surrounding him. “Groot?”, he asks quietly, the sound of his voice almost absurd in the silence. Groot shifts on his shoulder, holding onto Tony's hair for support as he turns around to look forward again. “You'll never set a foot into a forest again, okay? Promise me that?”

The tree tugs at Tony's hair, which probably means yes, and Tony's glad that they agree on this.

He thinks about his creations as he walks. Does equations in his head, tries to find ways to get yet nonexistent spells to work, wondering if JARVIS would like to have an actual body at some point. Tony is sure he could make that happen, though he'd have to hide it from Howard.

If he ever sees Howard again, that is. Or his workshop. Or -

Tony cuts off his line of thought, refusing to think about his mother, and concentrates on what he sees right in front of him again.

He doesn't see that much, though. The world around him has no defined edges, no forms, it's just unending darkness and swirling shadows. The ground feels solid and real beneath his feet, like stone, but he still isn't sure if any of this is really _there_. He thinks he can hear water, weird as that is, and just moves towards the sound. It takes eternities until he can make out the silhouette of a bridge in front of him, a bridge leading over a narrow, dark river that doesn't look all too inviting.

Tony has no idea where he is or in which direction he should go to get out of here, but going over that bridge seems like a good idea. Only that it isn't – it really fucking isn't _–_ which he realizes as soon as he sets a foot on it.

Because something – something big and dark and _what the hel_ is _that?!_ \- lands directly in front of him, the impact loud and hard enough to make the whole bridge vibrate. Tony yelps and stumbles backwards, barely managing to stay on his feet, and the _thing_ follows. It's cowering, but still almost twice as high as Tony himself, and all he can see is big, flaming green eyes and bared teeth, teeth that look like they could very easily rip him to shreds. There's a deafening growl coming out of that muzzle, and Tony's very, very sure that it is only seconds away from lunge at him. He feels Groot clinging to his shoulder, holding onto him for dear life and _trembling_ , and Tony can't do anything but walk backwards as the thing, the _wolf_ , edges him on, slowly and deliberately, knowing just as well as Tony that there is no hurry. He can't win this fight, anyway, so why make it quick and painless if it could just as well be -

Tony's back collides with something, and the last bit of breath he had is knocked out of his lungs. It takes only a moment to realize that the thing behind him is no thing but a _chest_ , and that there are hands touching him, one on his left shoulder and the other on his arm, keeping him in place. Tony has a pretty good view of those lethal teeth, now that they are hovering directly in front of his eyes. He can feel its breath on his face, can _smell_ it, even, and he is about to close his eyes and just accept whatever is going to happen when -

“You should not be here, little god.”

The words are not more than a whisper, brushing his ear and making him shiver. He swallows thickly, recognizing the voice, and then notices that the wolf has stopped growling. His heart is beating so loud that he's sure everyone can hear it, and the rushing in his ears makes him a bit dizzy. But he still pulls himself together because hey, he isn't dead yet, and Groot's still sitting on his shoulder in what must be shock, and there's no way Tony Stark will go _quietly_.

“Yeah, figures”, he says, only slightly breathless. “Must've taken a wrong turn or something.”

Behind him, Loki chuckles, and the hand on his shoulder squeezes a little. “Oh, no. You have found your way around impressively. This is just not a path I can allow you to take, I'm afraid.”

Tony's probably hallucinating, but for a second he is _sure_ that he can see amusement in the green eyes of the beast that is still very close and very deadly. Far too close for Tony' taste, actually, just like the freaking _insane_ god behind him.

“Hands off”, he says through clenched teeth and, to his surprise, Loki immediately takes a step back. Or to the side, rather, because he comes to stand right next to Tony.

“This is quite enough, I think”, the God of Death says to the black wolf, a smile tugging at his lips.

The wolf huffs, eyes flickering from Loki to Tony and back, and then it retreats, just enough to make Tony feel a little less like a meal served on a silver plate. It sits down a few steps away from then, like an adorable little puppy that's been told to sit and wait. Adorable and nine feet high.

Tony tries to straighten himself and catch his breath, taking Groot off his shoulder to cradle him against his chest instead. The poor kid is still trembling and Tony would like to offer some reassuring words, but he has none of those left at the moment, himself. He can't decide whether to stare at Loki or the wolf, but for the split of a moment, he decides looking at Loki is more interesting. The god is as pale and tall as he remembers, but he isn't dressed in black from head to toe anymore. He wears a cloak that almost reaches down to his ankles, a complicated looking jacket beneath it and pants that are tucked into knee-high boots. The black material of the cloak that may be leather or something else entirely is embroidered with golden seams at the lapel, and the green of the jacket matches his eyes.

So, yes, still mostly black. But not _only_ , and that's progress, right?

“Anthony”, Loki says, and Tony can't help but shudder at hearing his name fall from those lips, “this is Fenrir. He protects these borders.” He smiles at Tony, sharp and amused. “I hope he scared you not too badly.”

“A big dog's not quite enough to scare me, thank you very much.”

“He has heart”, said big dog comments on that, and yes, _fine_ , Tony flinches. Hearing a beast like that speak would make anyone flinch, for fuck's sake. Tony stares at it – sorry, at _him_ , and the sound coming out of Fenrir's muzzle now may or may not be a chuckle. “He is smaller than I thought, however.”

“I'm not small”, Tony says more or less automatically, and Loki and the wolf look at him with unimpressed expressions that are disturbingly similar. Tony swallows and insists, “I'm not.”

“Of course not.” Loki looks far too entertained and doesn't seem to be even remotely bothered by the glare Tony shoots at him. Bastard.

To prove his point of not being scared, Tony looks at Fenrir and says, “Hi. Nice to meet you, I guess. I'm -”

“Oh, I know exactly who you are”, the wolf interrupts him, his voice rumbling with amusement. “Father has -”

“Fenrir”, Loki cuts in calmly, and Fenrir  _rolls his eyes_.

“I will see you again”, he says to Tony, inclining his big and heavy head, and then turns around and trots away, over the bridge where he eventually merges with darkness.

Tony stares at the bridge for a moment longer, than turns his head to look at Loki, who immediately meets his eyes. “Father?”, Tony repeats. “ _You_ are his -”

“Yes”, Loki says lightly. “Did you not know that?”

Tony blinks at him, thinking about how the hel is this his life, then answers, “no, sure, of course I knew. He's got your eyes.”

A smile, a little less sharp than before. “That he does.” Loki cocks his head, nodding toward the direction in which the city must be. “Come, now.”

“What? Back to – no. No way.”

Loki raises a brow at him. “No? Why?”

“Because I was just going home, and I have no desire whatsoever to return to your creepy palace.”

“Creepy”, Loki echoes, still amused. “I see. Do you know the way _home_ , then?”

“Yes, I'm pretty sure I have to -” Tony stops, his mouth falling open as he looks at the bridge. Or rather at the spot where the bridge has just _been_ and where it isn't anymore. The river is still there, though, so Tony grits his teeth and looks back at Loki. “You know what? Doesn't matter, I can swim.”

“I cannot let you do that”, Loki says calmly, and Tony has to fight the urge to throw something at him. But the only thing in his reach is Groot or maybe one of his shoes, and both options aren't that good.

“I don't give a fuck what you can or can't let me do, I -”

“The water is deadly for the living, Anthony, and I would rather not have you die.”

“Then keeping me in _the land of death_ is not the best thing to do, you know.”

“Being here will not kill you”, Loki says, his smirk returning. “Not yet, at least. Now come, I have something to show you.”

Tony forces himself to take a steadying breath, holding Groot even tighter against his chest. “What do you want from me?”

Loki, who's already started walking away, stops and looks at him again. “Pardon?”

“What do you want from me?”, Tony repeats slowly, glaring at the older god with every inch of courage he can muster. “You've lured me here, and now you want to _keep me._ There's something you want from me, and _I_ want to know what it is.”

Loki listened and now looks at him, still annoyingly unimpressed, his smirk never wavering. “Maybe I'm merely fond of spring”, is all he says, eyes sparkling as if he just shared some kind of joke he expects Tony to laugh at. And then he just turns his back to Tony again, and younger god loses it.

“I've never wanted to be the God of Spring”, he spats at Loki, who doesn't even turn around to look at him. “Fuck, I don't even _like_ spring. I can't stand people making such a big deal out of things _blooming_ as if that doesn't happen every year. I hate being woken up by birds at five am. Pollen is _ruining my life._ I don't give a shit about flowers, there's nothing more boring than _gardening._ So if you think I'll walk around here and make an enchanted garden out of your goddamn lair full of _zombies,_ prepare for the biggest disappointment of your life.”

Loki still doesn't turn around, and Tony stands there and stares and breathes raggedly until Loki says, “but you _are_ the God of Spring.”

“Well, fuck that. I don't want to be it.”

Loki inclines his head so Tony can see the older god's profile. The bastard's still smirking. “And I do not want to be the God of Death”, he says, voice as calm as ever. “I don't see how that changes anything.”

And with that, Loki leaves him standing there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming next: Loki's perspective on Things, Loki low-key panicking because said things, and pomegranates.


	4. Chapter 4

Well.

That went... not as good as he had hoped, but better than expected? Yes. Yes, that is a result Loki can live with, more or less. It isn't like he expected the little god to do anything else than be, well, willfully obstructive. And Loki can understand that, of course he can; he himself would not take kindly to being treated like this, either. But he doesn't have much of a choice now anymore, has he?

Loki has a plan, and he has to follow through with it, because Anthony is here now.

(Anthony is _here._ They have exchanged words. Looked into each other's eyes. Loki has touched him, even – carried him to his room, that first day; steadied him when the young god was about to fall; touched him _just now_ , minutes ago, Anthony's back flush against his chest and Loki's mouth close to his ear until -)

Loki should not think about any of that.

(“ _Hands off.”_ )

Yes, Anthony is here now. He is also frightened and wary, so Loki has to be very, very careful. He knows that it's unlikely that Anthony will ever trust, let alone like him, he _knows_ that. But this is the only chance he will ever have, and if there is even the slightest possibility that he _hasn't_ ruined everything yet, he has to make the best of it. Of course, things could have gone smoother – decoying Anthony into his realm was hardly the wisest thing Loki has ever done, and it didn't exactly make him seem any less suspicious than he already does, anyway.

(But Anthony would have died there, wouldn't he? Loki couldn't let that happen, he _had_ to do something.)

He should have known better.

Loki doesn't look back to where his guest – _no euphemisms, Loki, be honest,_ _at least to yourself –_ his captive is still standing and staring after him. He allows himself these moments of privacy to gather his thoughts, knowing that Anthony will follow him, anyway. And he is right: Loki has barely taken twenty steps when he hears the sound of another pair of boots on stone, quick and angry as they try to catch up. Loki hurries to school his face into a blank expression, but he can't keep his eyes from quickly gliding over Anthony's frame when the younger god is suddenly walking right next to him.

He’s beautiful. (He always is.) But he is also... shorter than Loki thought, somehow. He has to agree with his son, there. But since he always watched Anthony out of distance and only saw him in company of his parents, who both aren't exactly tall people, it might only be a matter of shifted perspective. Loki himself is taller than most, after all. Apart from that, there is nothing exactly surprising about actually _seeing_ Anthony from up close. It still hurts, looking at him. (Of course it does; looking at something you want and cannot have always hurts.) So, painful, yes. But surprising? No. Loki has watched him for so long that it's all oddly familiar, everything from the lines of Anthony's face to the way he moves. He even knows the young god's expression; his jaw set, a frustrated slant to his mouth, a stubborn look in his dark eyes. Anthony looks like that often enough, mostly after dealing with his father.

Loki doesn't like being the cause of that expression.

“Will he be alright?”, he says, keeping his tone mostly light, but allowing a hint of concern to sneak into it. Anthony's eyes that were inspecting their surroundings snap back to him now, narrowing when Loki nods toward the sapling Anthony is still cradling in his arms.

“That's none of your damn business.”

Well, he probably should have expected that.

“Does he need anything?”, Loki tries again, having averted his eyes from Anthony. He looks at Helheim, which they were slowly approaching, at his home that is so dark and colorless except for a little bit of pale, fumy green here and there.

(Does Anthony like green? This green – _Loki's_ green? Loki always wondered.)

“I don't want you near him”, Anthony says sharply, pointedly, in a way that promises bloody murder when his wish isn't complied.

Of course. Nobody likes having the God of Death near their children.

“I didn't intend to touch him”, Loki says coolly, still not looking at Anthony. “Or hurt him, for that matter. But you will have some trouble providing him with anything he needs as long as you are here, so I thought you might approve of my -”

“Yeah, no”, Anthony cuts in. “Thanks. We won't be staying for long, anyway.”

Loki darts a sharp smile at him. “We shall see about that.”

Anthony just huffs and looks away again; the conversation is apparently over.

This isn't going well, is it?

It doesn't take much longer until they reach the city, and Loki feels oddly... uncertain. He knows that his realm isn't pleasant to look at; not from this perspective, anyway. It's cold and dark and, as Anthony quite aptly put it, creepy. He would wish for Anthony to feel comfortable here, but that is probably even more pointless than hoping the young god will come to like him. No living being can feel comfortable here, and Loki should know; he is a living being, after all.

A few of the Dead start to follow them, which isn't exactly unusual; they are always drawn to Loki when he strolls around these streets. Loki wouldn't think twice about it if he didn't know that they had also followed _Anthony_ on his way out of the city earlier, and if it didn't seem like they stuck more to Anthony's heels than to Loki's own.

It's odd. They never do that with Thor, so it can't be the fact that Anthony is alive that draws them to him. But well, Loki has already known that Anthony is... special.

“Do you want me to send them away?”, Loki says. He hasn't missed the wary looks Anthony keeps throwing at their followers. “I can.”

“It's not like they're doing anything”, Anthony says, which probably means no. “Besides being weird.”

Loki has to suppress a smile.

Eventually, they arrive at the palace. The guards open the gate for them, and Loki leads Anthony out of the throne room and then to the wing in which the royal chambers are located. Anthony seems to recognize the corridors, and manages to hide his discomfort quite well. Loki watched him leave his room earlier, of course, and noticed every single sign of trepidation and fear Anthony showed on his long, long way out of the palace. Loki didn't lie when he said it was impressive; there are not many who can avoid getting lost in Loki's realm. (Thor certainly can't, but then, Anthony is much more intelligent.)

“You might want to take a bath before we talk”, Loki suggests when they arrive at Anthony's room, glancing at Anthony's dirty and torn tunic that might have been yellow once. “You should find whatever you need in the bathroom. There are clothes in the wardrobe. Feel free to treat everything as yours.”

Anthony looks at him for a moment, his little tree still in his arms, expression unreadable. “Where's the bathroom?”, he asks then, tone flat.

“The second door in the bedroom will take you there. I trust you'll be able to find it.”

Anthony narrows his eyes at him, mouth twitching. Annoyed, apparently. “There isn't a second door.”

“Are you sure?”, Loki asks, smirking, and points down the corridor. “When you are done, take the third door to the right. I will be waiting for you there.”

“As you wish”, Anthony snaps, turns, stalks into his room, and slams the door.

Of course he slams the door.

Loki takes a trembling breath and just stays where he is for a minute. In front of Anthony's room. Where Anthony is currently in. Where Anthony might actually take a bath in the coming minutes.

Loki rubs his thighs, trying to keep his hands from fidgeting and failing. No. No, this is not going well. Still not as bad as he expected, maybe – Anthony being angry at him is better than Anthony being _scared_ of him. Anger, he can handle.

And still, it hurts.

( _Stupid_ , his own mind hisses at him, and Loki can't help but agree.)

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

“No, you can’t drink this. I know you need water, but – don't look at me like that. I'm hungry and thirsty, too, okay? We just have to wait until we’re home again.”

Groot lets himself fall onto his back dramatically, probably preparing for an impressive pouting fit. Tony doesn’t even roll his eyes at him, he just looks back into the mirror and proceeds rubbing his hair dry. The bathroom – the door has _not_ been there the last time he checked, thank you very much – is nicer than expected; the control panels for the tub and the sink are even more modern than what Tony has at home. Which, yes. Weird. Loki doesn’t exactly seem like a modern guy. No, he seems like an asshole, actually, and assholes shouldn’t be allowed to have nice bathrooms.

“I said _no_ , Groot”, Tony says, only just managing to grab Groot before he can crawl into the sink and get the water running. “You don't want to stay down here forever, do you?”

Groot glowers at him, but after a moment shakes his head. Tony gives him another pointed look and sets his creation down on the floor again. Tony shoos him out of the bathroom, away from the faucets. He closes the door behind them and walks over to the wardrobe.

“He's really trying to piss me off, huh”, he mutters while rifling through the clothes. Eventually, he pulls out one of the yellow tunics and simple brown pants; something pretty similar to his own clothes at home.

Norns forbid the God of Spring wears anything else than warm, gentle earth tones. His wardrobe at home spills over with friendly yellows and ochars and browns, and a few too bright greens in between. This wardrobe here looks more or less the same, and Tony hates it. He takes on the clothes and a pair of boots, anyway. They're nice, fit him like they were tailored for him, and Tony tries not to think about how uncomfortable that makes him.

Tony sees no reason to prolong the inevitable, so he lifts Groot onto his shoulder as soon as he’s dressed and leaves the room. The corridor is just as creepy as it was before, and Tony’s shivering a little in the cool air. _The third door to the right_ , Loki said, so Tony goes and counts _one, two, three_ , stopping in front of a closed door. He doesn’t allow himself to hesitate and opens it swiftly, expecting – well, anything else than _this_ , really.

Loki, sitting in the only armchair in the room, looks up from a book that promptly vanishes into thin air. He meets Tony’s gaze, his eyes untelling but attentive, and Tony stares back at him.

“So?”, he says.

“So?”, Loki repeats, raising his brows.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?”

“Yes.”

“This is an empty room”, Tony states slowly, not even trying to keep himself from looking at Loki like he’s mad.

He _is_ mad, undoubtedly.

Loki’s eyes glide across the stony floor and bare walls, as if he’s only just realizing that his armchair is the only piece of furniture, and that it looks completely out of place in the otherwise bare and dark room. There’s a small flame hovering in the air next to Loki, a ball of green light that looks pretty much like the spell Tony himself is always using to brighten things up. Only that Loki’s light doesn’t do much to brighten things up; it only makes things look creepier.

“As of yet”, Loki says after a moment, “yes, it is. Would you like to sit down?”

Tony blinks first at him, then at the second armchair that just appeared across from Loki. Tony bites his tongue just in time to keep himself from calling the other god a show-off – Loki is obviously good with pocket dimensions; keeping whole pieces of furniture in them is only something for advanced mages. But, well, of course he _is_ an advanced mage. He’s a bit wary as he takes a few steps into the room and eventually sits down, half expecting the armchair to crumble away under him. It doesn’t, of course; it’s pretty damn comfortable, actually. There’s also a low table between them, now, with food - are those _pomegranates_? - and a carafe filled with crystal clear water on it.

Show-off, indeed.

“I won’t eat anything”, Tony says before Loki can make the offer. He can watch the older god frown in… what is that, anger? Frustration? The emotion is gone as quickly as it appeared.

“I will not force you to”, he says, eyes flickering down to Groot. “Your creation seems to be thirsty, however.”

“His name is Groot.” Tony leans forward and grabs said kid again, who was about to climb off Tony’s shoulder and onto the table. Tony sets him on his lab, gentle hands keeping him there. “And he won’t eat or drink anything, either.”

Loki looks at him for a moment, brows still knitted together. “You have been unconscious for several days”, he says then - slowly, as if talking to a child. _Fucker._ “You must be hungry.”

“You needn’t worry about that, your Majesty”, Tony replies, smiling; all feigned politeness and too sweet vocals. He even mimics Loki’s accent a little; that posh way of speaking that’s typical for…

_Oh._

Typical for the Aesir, usually.

How hasn’t he noticed that before? But Loki is no Aesir, is he? He can’t be. Tony tries to remember what little he knows about the God of Death, but those old scare stories of his childhood are still the only information he comes up with. And they don’t say anything whatsoever about Loki’s origins, if he has any.

“Are you trying to provoke me, little god?”

Pulled out of his thoughts by the cool but amused voice, Tony focuses on Loki again. “I don’t know”, he says, maintaining his own smirk. “Am I?”

Loki’s eyes are glinting, and with that smile tugging at his lips he seems oddly… pleased. It’s a sincere and somewhat secret smile, something Tony feels he isn’t even meant to see, and the barely hidden glee makes Loki’s features look younger, somehow, and less cold.

Tony has to swallow.

“I wish to offer you a deal”, Loki says then. He’s shifted in his chair, one leg loosely thrown over the other so that his ankle is resting on the knee, elbow propped up on the armrest, his chin in his hand. The picture of nonchalance, of amusement. Of _playfulness_ , even. He’s having fun, apparently.

“A deal”, Tony echoes, trying not to grind his teeth too hard.

“Yes”, Loki says, and Tony’s sure he will have to tickle the words out of Loki or something, but then the other god already continues. “I want you to stay here. Not as my prisoner, of course, but as my guest.”

 _Yeah, as if._ “Why?”, Tony asks.

“It has come to my attention that you are…”, Loki pauses, inclining his head, “rebelling, one could say, against the Allfather. I would like to support you.”

Tony stares at him, barely keeping his mouth from falling open. He remembers what JARVIS said, briefly before Tony and Groot ventured into that damned forest, in reaction to Tony voicing his anger about, yes, the Allfather. _I’d be careful with such statements, sir._ Why? Because they could get him into trouble?

Ha.

“I’m not rebelling against the Allfather”, Tony says, hoping he sounds calmer than he feels. “I just -”

“You don’t want to be the God of Spring”, Loki interrupts him. “You said that earlier, quite clearly.”

“Yes, and _you_ said that it doesn’t change anything.”

“What if it could?”

Tony has no idea what to say, but Loki doesn’t let the silence last for long.

“Stay here”, he says, leaning forward to pour water into the two glasses standing next to the carafe. He lifts one of them to his mouth, then, the clear liquid turning a deep red just before it touches his lips. _Show-off,_ again. Tony hopes that it’s wine, but thankfully he hasn’t enough time to wonder about the alternatives, because Loki is already speaking again. “Refuse to do your duties; the world can survive without spring for a few years. I will take care that no one will pester you into taking care of your garden”, a smirk, “or your forest during the time you spend here. _I_ certainly won’t.”

Tony swallows, frowning as he processes Loki’s offer. “My parents -”

“Should learn that you are able to make your own decisions”, Loki cuts in, “shouldn’t they?”

 _You’re manipulating me_ , Tony thinks, but doesn’t say. “And how long would you have me stay here?”

“That is entirely up to you”, Loki says, his smirk widening until Tony can see pearly white teeth. “As I said, you would be a guest, not my captive.”

“Right”, Tony huffs, “and what do you want me to do? I won’t just twiddle my thumbs and hang around here so you can use me as a pawn in whatever game you’ve got going on with Odin.”

“I do not expect you to.” Loki looks _pleased_ again, his grin softening. “This is what this room is for.” His eyes flicker to the side as he nods at their surroundings, but they come back to meet and hold Tony’s gaze quickly enough. “Or rooms, really. The whole corridor.”

“What about it?”

“It’s yours”, Loki says, “if you want it to be.” Tony stares at him, and after a moment of looking at him amusedly, Loki adds, “use it as a workshop, if you like. I imagine you would like to have more space to work; you will find that this place is much less cramped than what you are used to.”

 _Oh_.

“I can provide you with whatever you need for your work”, Loki continues. “Material, time, and privacy.”

A workshop. A workshop that’s more, better than that cramped, makeshift room Tony has at home because his father doesn’t allow him to have – to have something like _this._ A place of his own, without intruders or people judging him for what he does.

Of course he would like to have that. Of course Loki knows that. Of course -

“You have been watching me”, Tony says slowly. He yanks his eyes away from the bare room that seems much friendlier suddenly, now that he knows what could become of it. He looks at Loki again, trying to read more than amusement in his features. Because there _has_ to be more, Tony is absolutely sure that there is. (He doesn't find anything; Loki's mask is flawless.)

“Yes”, Loki admits, not even hesitating.

“For how long?”

“A few decades.” The twitch of a smile. “Give or take.”

“I don’t-”, Tony begins, cuts himself off, and tries again, “I don’t understand what you get out of this. Just - Just a chance to annoy my parents _and_ Odin? That’s -”

“A lovely pastime”, Loki fills in, more or less helpfully. “My business with Odin does not concern you, little god.”

“Uhm, yes, it does?” Tony stares at Loki, shaking his head and huffing a laugh. “If I am to help you annoy him, he’ll probably be annoyed by _me_ , too. So what if -”

“You would have my protection, of course”, Loki interrupts him _again_. Seems to be something like a bad habit with him. “No harm would come to you”, he glances down to where Groot is still perched in Tony’s lap, “or your creations. You have my word.”

“Your word”, Tony repeats. “And that’s worth, what? Nothing, for fuck’s sake. You want me to trust you? The God of Death? I’m not _stupid_ , Loki.”

In the split of a second, Loki’s expression turns hard and cold again. Tony can watch him grind his teeth; the muscles in his cheeks are twitching. “Then don’t”, Loki says eventually, his voice cold and poignant.. “You are allowed to leave, if you wish. Fenrir will let you pass the river.”

That renders Tony speechless for a few seconds - seconds in which Loki doesn’t meet his eyes. “You would - You would let me go? I thought you -”

“I made an offer”, Loki says, still sharply. “Accept it if you feel so inclined, leave if you don’t, but do not waste my time.”

Tony swallows. And stares. And thinks.

Groot is tugging at his sleeve, but Tony ignores his creation. Loki still isn’t looking at him, his gaze fixed on some point to their side, not seeming like he is actually seeing anything. When Tony eventually breaks the silence, Loki’s eyes snap back to him at once.

“I have conditions.”

Loki’s gaze turns curious – and relieved, even though that only for the briefest moment. “How many?”

Tony does a quick count, then says, “five.”

Loki raises a brow. “I’m listening.”

“You don’t enter my corridor without my permission.”

Loki nods after a brief moment. “Agreed.”

Tony gives him a pointed look. “You don’t watch me anymore, either.”

A longer pause, this time. “As long as you are in your rooms, I won’t”, Loki says then, watching Tony closely. “But if you are roaming around my realm, I need to make sure you don’t…”, he smirks again, “stick your nose into things that are none of your business. So I will watch you, then.”

Tony frowns, but shrugs. “That’s fair, I guess. Alright.”

“Your third condition?”, Loki prompts, his tone patient.

“I want to have my creations with me. All of them.”

Loki hums. “I can bring them here.”

“I don’t want you to touch them.”

“You won’t be allowed to leave again if you go back to your parents”, Loki reminds him with a sigh. Pursing his lips, Tony thinks it over.

“Fine. You get them here, but if you prod at them in any way, our deal's off the table”, he says after a moment, and Loki nods.

“They will be here in but a few hours. Your equipment, too?”

“Yeah.”

Loki nods again.

(It’s nice, having one of the most powerful beings in existence listening to _his_ conditions, and that without any real objections so far. It’s also weird, though, and a part of Tony’s brain is still wondering _why_.)

“I need a room full of, uh, soil”, Tony continues, “and a few flowers, maybe. Water in the ground.”

For the first time, Loki looks actually surprised. “A garden?”

“For Groot”, Tony clarifies quickly. “He needs somewhere to live. Getting to big for a flower pot.”

Loki blinks slowly, looking down at Tony’s creation. Tony can see that he’s thinking. “I’m afraid that isn’t possible”, he says eventually, sounding oddly hesitant. “Flowers do not survive here. Any soil I could provide would be… dead, in a matter of days.”

Tony snorts. “Nah, if I want it to stay alive, it will. And you did offer to provide e with things for him already. So?”

“Fine”, Loki says, one corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile. “The last one?”

“I want other clothes.” Tony tugs at his tunic, watching as Loki’s eyes drop down to his chest.

“What is wrong with these?”

“I don’t like the colors.”

Loki blinks, then sighs. “What colors would you prefer?”

“Red, blue, I don’t care. Just no… no earth tones. Yellow and brown and such.”

The God of Death looks at him for a long time. “Green?”, he asks then.

“As long as it isn’t too bright, sure.”

“Done”, Loki says, a little bit too quick, and Tony bets that the clothes in the wardrobe have already changed color. “So, are we agreed?”

Tony swallows. “I think so?”

Loki leans forward, reaching out for one of the pomegranates. A knife appears in his hand, more suited to cut skin than fruit. Tony watches his hands as he works, his long, pale fingers moving quickly, obviously skilled with a knife.

Groot tugs at his sleeve again, and Tony looks down at him. To his surprise, Groot nods.

So.

He's about to make a deal with the God of Death, apparently.

He's done worse things out of spite, hasn't he?

(No, he hasn't.)

(His mother will cry.)

(Howard will never look at him again.)

Green eyes meet his, and he thinks they are smiling at him. When Tony eats a few seeds of the sweet fruit Loki offers him, he isn't quite sure if he's been tricked into this or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look at that, Loki's doing some criminal consulting. Well, he's pretending to, anyway...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're already at chapter five! Half through, if my plan works out. (My plans rarely work out, though. Don't be surprised when there are suddenly fifteen chapters instead of just ten. xD)
> 
> Enjoy! <3

Maria Carbonell of Vanaheim is a force of nature. She has been the goddess of summer for thousands of years, and, most of the time, she is gentle and warm. She loves with all of her heart, and it is a sad thing that there are so very few people who can call that love their own. Maria's parents are long dead and she has no siblings; but what she does have is a small family of her own. A family that she is proud of, even though both her husband and son are stubborn hotheads who often fail to see an inch beyond their own noses.

She would do anything for them.

So, when her only child eats six pomegranate seeds, Maria Carbonell does four things.

First, she talks to her husband.

(“Anthony is gone”, she says, bursting into his office like a summer storm, and he sits at his desk and looks up at her with a forming frown.

“What do you mean, gone?”

“He is in Helheim.”

The shock in his blue eyes is oddly calming.

“He isn't dead", _not yet,_ “but he will be forced to stay there if we don't get him back.”

The shock fades and leaves behind a reluctant sort of worry, and Howard sighs and glances down at the papers on his desk. “Well”, he says, “this was bound to happen at some point.”)

When Maria realizes that talking to her husband is pointless, she screams at him and at herself, just for good measure.

(“Yes! Yes, it was bound to happen, we _knew_ that this day would come! And we did nothing! We just waited and waited and forced him to do everything he didn't want to do, hoping he would grow into it. And now he is gone! In _Helheim_ , Howard. Norns! I should have taken him to his forest decades ago; he should never have had to do it on his own.”

“Maria”, Howard says. “Maria, darling. There is nothing we can do.”)

After that, Maria leaves Vanaheim. Because her son has been taken by the god of death, and the god of death bows to nobody - except maybe one.

(She stands in front of the Allfather, looking up to where he sits on Hliðskjálf, and says, “Your _son_ has taken mine away from me, and I _demand_ that he gives him back.”

“My son did no such thing”, Odin replies calmly.

“Don't take me for a fool, Odin! You know exactly who I am speaking of, and what he did. Tell Loki to -”

“Loki”, the Allfather interrupts, “is beyond my control, and no longer my concern. I care little for what he does, as long as he fulfills his task.”

He is lying, Maria knows. She can see the anger in his eyes.

“My son is his _captive_ ”, she spits at him. “He was taken against his will and -”

“We both know that is not true”, Odin cuts her off again. Then, he repeats her husband's words, “There is nothing we can do.”

Next to him stands his firstborn son, the god of thunder. He has turned oddly pale.)

The fourth thing she does, she should have done before anything else. She leaves the palace of Asgard, angrier at the Allfather than she has ever been before, and turns to the god of death.

(Maria knows that he is watching.)

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

And Loki _is_ watching, even though he wishes he wasn't.

He knew that this would happen, of course. And he enjoys it, to some extent - Odin's anger, Thor's shock, even Maria's fury. It's a sweet sort of power, and power has always been something Loki enjoys a little bit more than he should. But there is also his own anger, like an echo, because he sees the fear in Maria's eyes all to clearly.

A part of him wishes to tell her that harming Anthony will always be the last thing that he wants. He would rather harm himself. But he knows that Maria wouldn't believe that, and why should she? She knows that Anthony hasn't been forced to eat the seeds, but that he still didn't do it completely voluntarily. She knows that Loki is the god of death. (And again, no one wants to have the god of death near their children.) She also knows _why_ he is the god of death, which doesn't do anything to make him seem better or kinder in her eyes.

They all think he wants to harm Anthony. They all think he is not good for him. Well. Loki can't fault them for that; he thinks that himself.

Loki sits on his throne and watches Maria through the magical window he has created. He knows that she is capable of that spell himself, but his realm his warded well enough to make it impossible for her to reach him. He just allowed her a few glances, earlier, to let her know what happened to her son.

“I know that you are watching”, Maria says, directly looking into his eyes, and Loki is surprised. Surprised enough that he almost flinches. Maria makes a pause, as if to give him a chance to show himself, then says, “I wish to speak with you. And with him. I have to know if he is alright.”

Loki flicks his wrist and the reflection of Anthony's mother dissolves into a glimmer of green and gold, leaving Loki alone in his throne room. Not alone in the true sense of then word - a few of the dead are always lingering here, and there are his guards - but alone in every sense of the word that matters.

A good few days have passed since Anthony accepted their deal, and Loki has by now found that there was a great flaw in his plan. He also finds that he and Maria have exactly one thing in common - he would like to speak to Anthony, too. Very much.

But the young god does _not leave his rooms_.

Which, yes. Loki should have expected that. He also should have made it a condition of their agreement that Anthony come and talk to Loki at least once a day. Just so Loki could make sure he isn't up to anything, of course. (At dinner, maybe. He should have made _dine together every evening_ a condition, specifically.) But he didn't even think of that as he listened to _Anthony's_ conditions, too hung up on the fact that the other god was willing to negotiate at all. In hindsight, Loki knows that Anthony could have demanded pretty much anything - Loki would have done anything in his power and agreed to every term to make Anthony stay. He still would.

And he is happy that Anthony is here, he is. Just knowing that he is just a few corridors, a few doors awake makes Loki feel warmer than he has felt in ages. But he doesn't even know if Anthony is alright, and the worry that he isn't nags at him more and more, with every hour that passes.

Loki doesn't want to break their deal. But now that Maria is on the warpath, he might have a good excuse to go and speak to Anthony, anyway.

It still takes a few hours until he’s gathered enough courage to do so.

He has kept true to his word until now, and it feels strangely wrong to set a foot into Anthony’s corridor. A shiver runs through his body; a sign that Anthony has put up a ward and therefore knows that he is here. It would make Loki smile if he weren’t so nervous. He forces himself not to walk on tiptoes as he approaches the door that leads to Anthony’s workshop. It’s closed, so he knocks.

“Anthony?”

There’s no response. Loki can hear odd sounds through the door, like metal being worked, and he wonders if Anthony is actually _forging._ Loki knocks again and calls Anthony’s name again, then waits another few seconds. After a third time of that, Loki has had enough and opens the door, just wide enough that he can poke his head inside. He is prepared to get something thrown at his head - he knows that Anthony wouldn’t hesitate should that idea strike him -, but thankfully remains unharmed. Probably because Anthony hasn’t even noticed him, which Loki realizes just a second later.

The room looks entirely different than the last time he saw it. Of course it does; Loki told Anthony that he could do with it whatever he wished; and _wishing_ is about the only thing the young god has to do to rearrange this room or the entire corridor. (Loki spent months working on that spell when he first came up with the idea, ages ago.) Loki expected it to be different, but he still didn’t imagine something like this. He wonders if this is how Anthony’s workshop in his parents’ house looks, too.

The room is positively stuffed with all kinds of things; work benches and tables and plotting boards, tools that Loki has not seen in his entire life, the oddest working materials. Mostly different kinds of metal, though. There are blueprints everywhere, on the floor and the tables, pinned to the walls. Some are even hanging in the air, red and golden letters and numbers and drawings, all in Anthony’s messy handwriting. And Anthony is standing in the middle of them all, now and then muttering something to himself as he wipes and taps away at the inscribed air. It follows the movements of his fingers, the blueprints - or whatever it is - changing in every possible way at Anthony’s command. It’s fast and new and odd, and absolutely breathtaking _._ The room is filled to the brim with magic, the air almost vibrating with energy, with _life_ , and Anthony is the source of it all. The center.

If someone told Loki at this very moment that the whole universe revolved around Anthony Stark, he would believe it. Because, at this very moment, that is how it is - Anthony is nothing less and nothing more than the brightest light, and how can Loki not fall in love with him all over again?

He forgets time as he stands there and watches, and Anthony really doesn’t notice him. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Loki wonders if he should go and leave Anthony alone, but he is still worried, so he stays where he is. The spell is broken when the sounds he heard earlier suddenly stop, and when something bumps into Loki’s legs just a few seconds later. Startled, Loki looks down, and sees what has to be one of Anthony’s creations.

It’s made of metal, a sturdy, but obviously agile trunk and a long neck with claws at its end. Those were what touched Loki’s thighs, and now that the creature has straightened itself again, it is only a head or so smaller than Loki himself. Loki stares at it, watches the claws move - is it _waving_ at him? - and blinks when it makes a faint whirring noise.

Somehow, he finds his voice again.

“Anthony? I’m sorry to disturb, but -”

“One moment”, Anthony says absently, and Loki turns to stare at him again.

So maybe Anthony _has_ noticed him, then? And just doesn’t mind? The thought is surprising and warm, and - impossible. Of course Anthony minds that Loki is here. He should; Loki has agreed not to come here without Anthony’s permission, after all.

The creature beeps again, and Loki swallows and looks at it. He clenches his hands behind his back to keep himself from touching it. He doesn’t want to break that promise, too. The metal creature begins to tug at his jacket.

“Dum-E”, Anthony says suddenly, “leave him alone.”

 _Dum-E_ makes a disappointed sound, but obeys and rolls away. It approaches another metal creature that's apparently its sibling, and they begin working on something, making those noises Loki heard earlier. Anthony is still facing his floating blueprints, and he glances at Loki only briefly.

“I'm pretty sure you just broke our deal, Mr. You Have My Word.”

Loki grits his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm. “I do apologize. I was worried you -” Yes, what? _Worried you weren't eating_? _Worried you might never want to speak to me again_? _Worried_ _you_ -

“I'm not planning to escape.”

Oh, yes. That works. “Good. You wouldn't manage, anyway.”

To his surprise, Anthony grins. It makes the magic in the room even more intense, and the gold of the levitating letters shines brighter.

“I don't want to leave, anyway”, Anthony says. It sounds like a correction. Loki can see the joy in his eyes. “This is paradise.”

Loki, even though he knows from a reliable source that Helheim is very much _not_ paradise, asks, “Is it?”

“Yes”, Anthony says, and pulls some of his letters out of the air with a brief flick of his wrist. He wipes them away, making them flicker out of existence. Another quick hand gesture, and suddenly there is something else floating in the middle of the room - a ball made of red strings of magic, pulsating with energy. The pattern of the threads is intricate and endless, constantly changing. Loki has no idea what he is looking at, but it is one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen.

Anthony lets out a relieved breath. “Welcome back", he says and walks up to what is undoubtedly another one of his creations. He makes it disappear with another movement of his hand, and a second later every single line and character has vanished from the air.

Anthony finds Loki's eyes. His grin has turned into a self-satisfied smirk which is not any less beautiful, and his cheeks are flushed and his body seems to be vibrating, as if he just can't hold still. For the very first time, Loki sees just how much power is sleeping in his little god's veins.

“So”, Anthony drawls. “Why are you here? I'm working.”

Loki swallows - why is his mouth so dry, and has it been this hot in here the whole time? - and hopes that his face is as blank as he needs it to be. “On what?”, he asks, allowing only a tiny hint of curiosity to color his tone.

“Yeah, none of your business.”

Loki sighs. “Have you eaten?”

That catches Anthony off guard. “What?”

“Have you eaten”, Loki repeats. “I had food sent to you.”

“Oh. Haven't seen that.”

Loki stares at him for a moment, then slowly shakes his head. “You haven't even left this room, have you?”

The light in the room dims, and the magic begins to fade out of the air. Just in time, the look in Anthony's eyes gets darker. “Again, none of your business. This is mine, you said. I can stay here and work however long I -”

“I don't mean to keep you from that”, Loki cut him off. “But it has been five days. You must be hungry. And I have news I would like to share with you.”

“News”, Anthony echoes. The room seems dark and cold, suddenly. “My parents.”

“Yes.”

Anthony takes a deep breath, then nods. “Yeah, okay. We can talk.” He glances down at himself. “I, uh. Should probably take a bath.”

Loki allows himself to smile. “That would be appreciated, yes.”

“I'll just go and get Groot”, Anthony says, not even looking at Loki anymore. He walks to a door at the side of the room and opens it, letting in warm light that seems to be filtered by… leaves? Loki's eyes widen at the sight of _green_ behind that door; he catches a glimpse of trees and grass and, above it all, a bit of blue that looks like -

The sky.

Anthony comes back with Groot perched on his shoulder, and the door that leads to the sky gets closed firmly behind him. The look Anthony gives him tells Loki that he will not get another glimpse at that, even if he asked.

“You can wait in the corridor”, Anthony tells him.

Awestruck, Loki just nods.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

When Tony comes out of the bath, Groot is gone. Tony isn’t exactly surprised. He hurries to get dressed and leaves his bedroom. Loki is indeed waiting in the corridor, as expected, and Groot is with him, as expected. (The tree is too curious for his own good, really, and coming from _Tony_ , that is saying something.) What isn’t as expected is that Groot is perched on Loki’s shoulder, straddling it. His little hands are playing with the god’s hair, apparently trying to braid it. And Loki is just standing there, watching Groot out of the corner of his eye, a worried but lenient expression on his face. He’s keeping his hands behind his back.

“Uhm”, is all Tony can think of.

Loki’s eyes immediately snap to him, and Tony can _watch_ as the older good smooths out his expression, makes it polite, but blank. It makes him frown.

“I told him you wouldn’t like it”, Loki says, “but he didn’t listen.”

“That’s one of his bad habits.” Anthony tries giving Groot a pointed look, but his creation is focused on his task. He then meets Loki’s eyes again, finding the other god watching him carefully.

“I did not touch him.”

“You are touching him right now.”

“ _He_ is touching _me._ ”

Tony huffs and walks up to Loki, taking Groot off his shoulder with an experienced grip around the sapling’s body. Groot tries to wriggle himself free, but Tony doesn’t let him until he’s sitting safe on Tony’s shoulder. Groot holds onto his hair and tugs, but he ignores it. Loki is staring at him, his eyes wide, and Tony realizes that they’re closer than he is comfortable with. He stays where he is, though, and holds Loki’s gaze, defiantly lifting his chin.

“What?”

And again, Loki’s expression just gets wiped out, the almost vulnerable look disappearing so fast that Tony wonders if he’s just imagining things.  “Nothing”, Loki says, and turns away with a last glance at Groot. “Come. The dining room is not far.”

“There’s a dining room?”

“Is that surprising?” Loki’s voice is cold.

Anthony snorts. “There aren’t even ceilings.”

Loki sighs and briefly looks up, and when Tony follows his gaze - he stops walking, his mouth falling open.

There’s a ceiling. A completely normal ceiling. And the walls aren’t made of black stone anymore, instead Tony’s looking at wooden panels, plunged in warm and not green light coming from lanterns at the wall.

Tony’s mind is running as he tries to find the most logical explanation for this, and it takes just a few seconds until he says, “the whole place is an illusion, isn’t it?”

Loki, who has come to a halt a few steps away from him, lifts a brow. “You are a mage, are you not?”

“I’m not an illusionist”, Tony says. “I prefer to create things that can be…” Frowning, he steps closer to the wall and puts his hand on it, feeling solid wood beneath his fingertips. And the darker wood beneath his feet feels real and solid, too, he realizes. “Touched”, he murmurs.

“I see”, Loki says, faintly amused.

Tony looks at him again. “How does that work? It’s not the same spell I can use in my workshop, this feels different.”

“Good”, Loki says, and doesn’t sound at all surprised when he adds,  “You have keen senses.” He nods in the direction they’ve been walking. “Shall we go? I can explain it to you on the way.”

And Loki does explain, his voice calm and low, almost warm. He seems pleased, his smile sincere, and he is… patient. He tells Tony what this realm is made of - shadows and dreams and thoughts of the ones long dead and lost - and that Loki, as the king of those shadows and dreams and thoughts, can channel them all and squeeze them into whatever form he wishes. He does that for the dead, he says, but doesn’t give Tony a chance to ask what that means before he goes on explaining how he developed the spell that he also cast on Tony’s corridor, to allow him to simply wish everything from furniture to new walls and doors into existence.

It’s complicated and difficult, and incredible. Loki has the power to change the shape of a whole _realm_ , a whole world, and Tony can’t even imagine the amount of energy that’s needed for that. Loki must be able to draw on a _lot_ of seiðr, and Tony wonders if it’s all his own, or if he has access to different sources. He wants to ask about that, too, but then they reach the dining room and Tony suddenly remembers who Loki is.

“Take a seat”, Loki tells him politely. “Do you have any special wishes?”

“Hm?” Tony is distracted by the way the room around them is still changing, turning from dark and cold and green to a warm and comfortable dining place. Loki’s chuckle makes him concentrate again, though. He thinks it’s the first sincere almost-laugh that he’s heard from Loki.

“What do you want to eat?”, the older god asks as he makes his way to the nearest end of the long table. He puts his hand on the back of a chair on the side but immediately pulls it back, and Tony has no idea what that was about.

“Whatever’s fine”, he says and follows Loki hesitantly, sitting down on the chair Loki has touched but now abandoned. To Tony’s surprise, Loki doesn’t sit down at the end of the table but on the opposite side, across from him. It feels awkward and uncomfortable, and Tony wishes he could just go back to his amazing workshop and continue working himself to exhaustion. Loki seemed almost relaxed earlier, on the way here, but now he also seems to notice that they’re not to friends spending time together, but… well. Whatever they are. Business partners, maybe? Like hel Tony knows.

Groot climbs off his shoulder and begins to explore the table. Tony keeps an eye on him, but Loki holds the most part of his attention. He’s sitting across from him, quiet, his eyes cast down, looking at his hand that is busy fiddling around with serviette which has, together with plates and glasses and cutlery, appeared out of thin air. The movement looks slow and deliberate, but somehow Tony thinks that Loki only makes it _seem_ that way so it doesn’t look like the nervous habit it obviously is.

And that? Weird.

But well, everything about this is weird, so. Whatever.

“Why doesn’t it look like this all the time?”

Loki looks up again and meets Tony’s eyes. He lifts his shoulders in an elegant shrug. “I have no reason to make every splot of this place look… homely. I mostly just adjust wherever I currently am to my liking.” After a brief pause, he adds, “I can keep your corridor like that, if you like.”

“I don’t really care”, Tony says. “So the green and the black, and the lack of ceilings and stuff, that’s how the place _actually_ looks?”

“This place _actually_ looks like however it looks like in the moment. The lack of ceilings and the darkness is, well, the most simple way to keep it. And the green and the black, that is just something I am fond of.”

“You don’t say”, Tony deadpans.

Loki glances down at his green and black clothes and smiles, only a little.

“So why’s there no green and black around now?”, Tony asks, looking around the room. Mostly wood, with a little bit of red here and there.

“I thought you might prefer something else”, Loki says carefully, and before Tony can wonder what _what_ means, the door opens and two of the shadows Tony has seen in the throne room and in the rest of the Helheim walk inside.

They’re on the more solid side, like the guards that opened the palace doors for him. If he looks at them closely and concentrates, he thinks he can see the silhouettes of polite expressions on pale faces, and clothes that look somewhat like those the servants wear at home. Their hands are full with plates or bowls, and Tony can’t help but stare at them as they set them on the table. One of them also brinks a bottle of what looks like wine and fills both of their glasses.

“Thank you”, Loki says, and the servants bow and leave the room again.

Tony looks after them for a moment, then turns to Loki again. “So you have an actual kitchen here? And servants?”

“Of course.”

“Dead servants?”

Loki smiles one of his too sharp smiles. “Yes.”

“Okay”, Tony says, swallowing hard. “Cool.”

Loki just snorts.

The meal is surprisingly simple, and good. Just meat and vegetables, and sweet fruits for dessert. The wine is the best he’s ever tasted. At the beginning, Tony feels a bit reluctant, which is ridiculous - he has already eaten something here, and with that accepted Loki as his house and agreed that he would stay, at least for a while. This meal doesn’t change anything about that, and it certainly doesn’t make matters worse. And he _is_ hungry after working nonstop for what has apparently been days. So Tony eats, and watches Loki out of the corner of his eye. The god of death has to eat too, then, like everyone else. Tony feels stupid for being surprised about that; he knows that Loki is just as alive as he himself is, after all.

“So”, Tony breaks the silence after a while. “What happened?”

Loki swallows down the bite he has just taken and takes a sip of his wine, taking his time. “Your mother has figured out where you are”, he says then, his tone too even. “She went to Odin.”

“And?”

“And he has sent her away. They know they cannot do anything.” One corner of Loki’s mouth curls up into a smile, and somehow his eyes seem colder in the warm light. “You have chosen to stay here as my guest out of your own free will, and you are old enough that they can’t declare your will void. You can stay here as long as you wish, they won’t be able to force you to leave.”

“They’re probably not happy about that.”

“No”, Loki agreed lightly. “Odin is still trying to break my wards, and he sent his son to talk to me. I won’t let either of them in.”

Tony nods slowly, looking down at his empty plate as he thinks. “And my parents?”

“Your mother wishes to speak with me”, Loki said. It sounds a bit too indifferent. “And to you, of course. I have not answered her, and I would suggest that we not do so for at least a few weeks.”

Tony frowns and lifts his head again. “And then?”

Loki’s smile returns, but it’s more the beginning of a grin. “Then we can see if they have learned their lesson, I would say.”

“So you’ll throw me out, then.”

“No”, Loki says immediately, his expression getting serious again. And blank. “I told you, you can stay here as long as you wish.”

Tony puts down his fork and leans back in his chair. Loki’s eyes follow his every movement, and Tony’s own are fixed on Loki’s face. “I still don’t understand what you’re getting out of this”, he says.

This time, Loki’s smirk is obviously false. It’s a good fake, almost looks sincere. But Tony has seen his _real_ amused smirk, earlier, when Loki explained to him how his world works. “I get to watch Odin tear his hair out”, Loki says, taking his glass. “It’s very amusing.” He takes a sip, and his eyes don’t even flicker away, they hold Tony’s gaze.

Loki’s mask is good. _Almost_ perfect. But by now, Tony is pretty sure that Loki’s keeping something from him. Well, _of course_ he is, but this almost seems like… something personal. Tony can’t forget that vulnerable look in Loki’s eyes, when they were _too_ close to each other in the corridor. Or that thing with the chair, that seems more than just a bit odd too, now that Tony realizes that it looked as if Loki had - what, wanted to pull the seat out for him? And then there are those concerned sounding sentences like _Have you eaten?_ and _I thought you might prefer something else_. The nervous fidgeting, and the way Loki looked at him in the workshop, his mask for once forgotten, in its place an expression so open and awed that Tony couldn’t stand looking at it for very long.

Tony lifts his glass to his lips and makes sure that his thoughts don’t show on his face.

He might be onto something there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I hope I'm not the only one who thinks that Loki is ridiculously cute in this. Poor, lovesick baby.)


	6. Chapter 6

One thing Tony has gotten used to surprisingly quickly is the utter silence in Loki’s palace. It’s only broken by the sounds of his workshop or his steps when he walks the empty corridors, and now and then by the whisper of a dead shadow-servant that passes him. For almost three weeks now, Loki’s has been the only actual voice Tony has heard, except of his own when he rants to himself or to his creations as he works. And that only at breakfast and dinner, which they have together every day because for some reasons Loki insists on making Tony eat regularly. He always sends him lunch, too, but Tony always forgets to eat that.

So - his workshop, silent footsteps, whispers, Loki’s voice. These are the only sounds that exist in the realm of the dead, and Tony would never have thought that they could be enough for him. But they are. By now, the silence is okay. Tony has never liked it before - actually, silence always drove him goddamn insane until now, but here he can stand it. He spends enough hours working that his head is clear enough for him to deal with the quiet. And besides, anything other than silence would seem out of place in these dark corridors and empty halls.

Which is why Tony almost stumbles over his own feet when he hears _voices_ this morning, voices that get louder the nearer he gets to the dining room. He slows his steps because he can’t just stand in front of the left ajar door and eavesdrop; Loki would know.

“... still trying to free him. You can’t keep him here -”

“I am not _keeping_ him here. He decided to stay, I’m letting him.”

“Father is furious.”

“Your father is furious most of the time.”

“Loki, this is madness.”

“Oh? That might be the reason I’m having fun, then.”

Tony can’t keep from smirking when he hears the deep sigh that follows and has no difficulties whatsoever to imagine _Loki’s_ smirk. He’s reached the door by now and opens it all the way without hesitation, not even bothering to poke his head inside first. The first thing he sees is Loki, sitting at his usual place at the long table. He looks just like every morning, every strand of his hair already perfectly in place, dressed in fine fabric and leather, an open book and a cup of tea on the table in front of him. Not once he was already eating when Tony arrived, neither at breakfast nor dinner; Loki always waits for him.

Loki has been nothing but polite since they made their deal. Considerate, even. He's still distant and somewhat cold, and his mask is almost always in place, but Tony still thinks that the God of Death is what his mother would call a _gentleman._ And there are also these weird moments of vulnerability, when Loki's mask crumbles for just the blink of an eye. They haven't stopped, those odd looks Loki gives him now and then, mostly when he seems to think that Tony isn't paying attention. Sometimes he can't hold Tony's gaze for very long, or his hands keep fiddling around with whatever they find at the table. Tony can tell that Loki is _nervous_ , though he isn't entirely sure why. He thinks it might be because Loki hasn’t been around, you know, _living_ people for a very long time. Of course he isn’t used to company anymore, so that’s why being around Tony makes him nervous.

(Tony tells himself that, because the other possibility that _has_ crossed his mind already is just too absurd.)

All in all, Tony can't complain. Loki is weird as fuck, but he isn't actually bad company. He's ridiculously smart, for one thing, and even though his sense of humor doesn't show that often yet, it’s sarcastic and clever and just what Tony thinks is funny, too. By now he almost looks forward to seeing Loki each morning and evening. And this could just be like one of those mornings, if it weren’t for the man who was sitting right next to Loki.

He looks every inch like the owner of the deep, too loud voice Tony heard earlier, tall and bulky, wearing impressive red and gold armour. He also has the biggest, bluest, saddest puppy dog eyes Tony has ever seen.

Tony knows immediately who he is, and why he is here.

The two gods at the table immediately look at him when he steps into the room. Unlike Loki, the god of thunder looks surprised. He moves to stand up, probably to greet Tony, but Loki reaches out and takes his arm to pull him down again. The annoyed expression has long vanished from his face when he looks at Tony.

“Good morning, Anthony. Coffee?” He speaks the words like he’s spoken them a million times before - thirteen, in truth - and the pointed look he gives Tony when Thor’s not looking makes Tony smile at him.

“Yes, thanks.” He sits down on the chair across from Loki, like usual, and gently sets Groot down on the table. Only then turns to Thor. “Hi.” The other god starts introducing himself, but Tony interrupts, “I know who you are, so don’t bother. And you know who I am too, probably.”

“It seems that the whole Nine Realms know who you are by now”, Loki remarks dryly, gently placing the cup he just poured wonderfully hot coffee into in front of Tony.

“Now that’s amazing news”, Tony says, grinning, and Loki responds with a smirk.

“You are late this morning”, he says then, his tone perfectly casual. “Have you worked all night through again?”

“No, but almost.” Tony turns to one of the servants who have just come to place the plates with their breakfast on the table, thanking them before he grabs a bunch of grapes and begins to eat. That gives him about three seconds to decide on what to say. “I had a breakthrough with the interface last evening, though, so it was worth it. You know how the screens always kept disappearing after a while? I finally figured out how I can make it work. It’s awesome, I can show you after breakfast.”

The silence that follows makes Tony think that might have been a _tiny_ bit too much. He looks up at Loki to find him staring at him, looking confused and stunned and not at all like they’re putting on an act anymore. Gladly, Thor is totally focused on Tony, looking not any less surprised than Loki.

“You… work here?”

Tony nods swiftly. “Yes. Well, sort of, I’m inventing here.”

Thor frowns a little. “Aren’t you the God of Spring?”

“Aren’t you the God of Thunder?”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with this?”

“I don’t know, I just went along with what you started.” Tony helped himself to some bread and cheese. “Oh, by the way, there’s something I always found odd. Why _are_ you the God of Thunder?”

Thor looks helplessly confused by now. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean, you don’t even fight with thunder, right? You fight with lightnings.” Tony waits for a reply, but when Thor stays silent, he shrugs and continues, “So either your father doesn’t know what thunder is or something else really went wrong with the whole naming and assigning tasks thing.” Tony stops, letting his hands sink, and frowns. “Or wait, do you control thunderstorms?”

A moment passes in silence, and then Thor bursts into healthy, too loud laughter that makes Tony wonder if he’s called the God of Thunder because of _that_. Loki rolls his eyes and looks down at his book. He isn’t smiling, not even smirking, which worries Tony a little if he’s honest.

“I can see why my brother likes you, little one”, Thor says after he’s gained control over his guffawing again. He sounds almost fond.

“Do not call him little”, Loki says without looking up from his book. _He_ sounds annoyed.

“Yeah”, Tony agrees. “And which brother are we talking of? Baldr? I think we’ve never met.”

Thor’s chuckling finally stops completely, and for a second he just looks at Tony, confused again. “I am talking about Loki, of course.”

“Oh”, Tony says and forces himself to leave it at that, even though he internally goes _whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthe_ -

Because, really.

 _Brothers_?

“So”, Loki breaks the silence, having looked up from his book again. “Now that you have satisfied yourself that I am not keeping him in a cold and dark room without food or water, could you please leave us alone? And don’t forget to tell Odin that I do hold his trying to meddle in my affairs against him.”

“I’m sure he knows that already. Will you walk me out? I would like to -”

“No.”

Thor sighs, but stands up. “Then at least tell your son to stop attacking me every time I visit.”

“Stop visiting, that would solve both of our problems.”

Thor laughs as if Loki told a funny joke, making Loki roll his eyes again. He nearly flinches when Thor pats his shoulder with, Tony thinks, a bit more force than necessary.

“I’m sorry for doubting you, brother.”

“Just go, Thor.”

“As you wish.” Thor turns to Tony with a bright grin and leans over the table to grasp Tony’s underarm in the typical Asgardian way. Tony tries not to wince; seriously, how strong _is_ this guy? “It was a pleasure to meet you, Anthony Howardson. I wish you two a lovely time. I hope I don’t have to tell you not to hurt my -”

“Thor”, Loki interrupts. He isn’t looking at either of them.

Fucking weird, all of this.

“It’s Stark”, Tony says lightly. “Tony Stark.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I forgot. The dwarfs have given your father that name, yes?”

“Mhh.”

“A honorable title”, Thor says, but he doesn’t sound entirely convinced. “I heard he was -”

“Thor”, Loki says again. “I _will_ throw you over the river myself if I must.”

“Well, we haven’t sparred in ages, I wouldn’t be -” The look Loki gives him makes Thor stop speaking, but only to laugh. “I’m sorry, brother. I am already on my way. Take care.” He winks at Tony one last time, then takes a heavy looking, short handed - _oh gods, that’s Mjölnir, can I please take a look at it just to see how it was crafted -_ and leaves the room.

As soon as he’s gone, Loki hisses a curse and positively slams his book shut. “Norns, that oaf drives me _insane._ ”

Tony has not the slightest idea what to say.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

Anthony is staring at him.

He is staring at him like he has no idea what just happened, which means that he will soon ask what just happened, which means that Loki will have to explain what just happened, which Loki does not want to do _at all._

The next time he sees his brother and Anthony isn’t in the room, Loki will strangle Thor.

He already knew that it was a mistake when he let Thor in, but the idiot basically spent the last weeks in front of one of the entrances to Loki’s realm and it eventually got onto his nerves. And since he knew that he would have talk to him again at some point, anyway, Loki decided to see him. He wanted to to get rid of Thor again before Anthony came down for breakfast, of course, but _obviously_ that didn’t work.

Loki might even be impressed by Thor's stubbornness if it wasn’t so annoying.

“So, uh”, Anthony ways, and Loki makes himself look at him. The young god holds his gaze, obviously curious. And wary. Naturally. “Brothers?”

Loki hopes that he can put an end to this conversation as soon as possible. “Yes”, he says. “Brothers.”

“Thor Odinson is your brother.”

“Yes, he is.”

“So either Odin or Frigga -”

“No”, Loki cuts him off.

He can positively watch Anthony's mind work, and at every other time he might enjoy watching that, but not now. He doesn't think that Anthony knows anything about Loki's past; very few people do anymore. Odin made sure about that, saw to it that everyone forgot about his second son who has never been his actual son. Of course everyone old enough to witness his fall themselves know who he is and what happened, and he is sure they still talk about him on the quiet, but Odin's word is law. And if Odin says that he has never been a prince of Asgard, that he has always been the god of death and will never be anything else, then that is what everyone would tell you if you asked about Loki _Laufeyson._

Nobody even asks about him anymore, of course. His name is nothing more than a whisper, a silent curse. They fear him, because they all know that they will meet him in the end.

“He's nicer than I thought.”

The sound of Anthony’s voice pulls Loki out of his thought and makes him look at the younger god again. Anthony is still eating, all the while keeping an eye on Groot like he does every morning. The little tree is clambering about the table and examining everything on it, which usually means that something will get broken very soon.

Loki has no idea what Anthony is talking about. “Pardon?”

“Your brother”, Anthony says, glancing at him only briefly. “He always seemed like an arrogant idiot to me.”

Loki can't keep himself from scoffing. “He _is_ an arrogant idiot.”

“You like him.”

“I tolerate him.”

“Are you blood brothers or something?”, Anthony asks, too curious for his own good.

“No”, Loki answers as dismissively as possible. Anthony just looks at him, not saying anything else.

Loki wonders what he would say. He likes to imagine that Anthony wouldn't mind, but that is probably one of Loki's most unrealistic dreams. But he knows that if he wants his most unrealistic dream to become true, he will have to tell Anthony about his past eventually. That is inevitable. It's also inevitable that Anthony will run as soon as he knows everything, and Loki doesn’t like to think about that.

He is aware that he can't keep everything about himself a secret, though. Not now that Anthony has seen Thor. The problem is that talking about Thor will lead to talking about Odin, and Loki doesn't enjoy talking about Odin.

But still, he has to start _somewhere_ , make a first step somehow, and maybe that's why he suddenly hears himself say, “We grew up together.”

He doesn't look at Anthony, but he can feel his eyes on him. The young god lets a few seconds pass, probably in surprise.

“Thor grew up in Asgard, didn't he?”, he asks then. “And not very long ago, he isn't that old.”

“He is a few hundred years older than I am”, Loki forces himself to say. He also forces himself to keep looking at Anthony, to sound casual. It's probably obvious how very much he does _not_ want to talk about any of this, and he tries to convince himself that that is not necessarily bad. Being trusted often leads to trusting in return, after all.

“I thought you were older”, Anthony says, sounding stunned. “You've been the God of Death for like, as long as I can remember.”

That almost makes Loki smile. “Well, I _have_ been the God of Death your whole life.”

“But not _your_ whole life, right?”

For a second, Loki just stares. Suddenly he understands that Anthony isn't just asking harmless questions because he is curious, he is asking harmless questions because he is _curious_ and knows that direct questions won't make for direct answers. He wants to know who Loki was so he can figure out how to deal with who Loki is now, and since he's aware that Loki won't tell him _how_ he became the God of Death, he's trying to start with finding out _when._

How exactly Anthony figured out that he hasn’t always been the God of Death in the first place, Loki can’t exactly tell. He also can’t keep from smiling anymore. _He’s clever._ The thought crosses his mind like it is anything new, even though it’s certainly no surprise. Loki has known for many decades that Anthony’s mind is a wonder.

“I think you already know the answer to that one."

Anthony makes a thoughtful sound. “I can pin down a rough time frame, I think”, he says, then makes a face. “Though that doesn't help me that much, I've no idea what happened at that time. I never paid attention in my history lessons.”

“I think you did”, Loki replies, knowing a lie when he hears one. “But I would be very surprised if you recalled anything that could help you along.”

“So what happened to you isn't taught to kids”, Anthony says, connecting the dots far too quickly. “And not spoken about, either, because I've never heard anything about it.”

“You are indeed a clever one, aren't you?”

“I'm a genius”, is all Anthony says, and it doesn't sound like bragging. It's just the statement of a fact Loki can't deny.

“Of course you are”, he says, and he immediately hears that his tone is a little bit too fond. But it seems that Anthony isn't even listening; he's lost in thoughts. And then he gets distracted by Groot trying to juggle with grapes and nearly falling off the table as he tries to catch them. Loki smiles to himself and turns back to his book, even though he can't concentrate on the words. He knows that breakfast will be over far too soon.

And it is; Anthony is done eating rather quickly today. He doesn’t stay a little longer after that, either, just downs another cup of coffee and is gone a few seconds later, leaving Loki alone with words “see you at dinner”.

That promise - which isn't actually a promise, Loki knows, because it doesn't _mean_ anything to Anthony - is what Loki keeps thinking of over the day, while he sits on his throne or walks through the streets of his kingdom and sorts out the minor problems he comes across.

_Dinner._

The last few weeks were nice. He saw Anthony twice a day, every day, and they never just ate in silence. Their conversations are still a bit awkward and stagnate more often than Loki would like, of course; Anthony is still suspicious and doesn't actually _want_ to talk to him. But Loki expected that, and he holds onto the hope that Anthony will grow at least a little bit more comfortable around him in time. Because Anthony _is_ curious - he has asked a few questions about Loki's realm and how everything works, questions Loki very gladly answered. (He cannot remember the last time someone actually _listened_ to him.) He is even brighter than Loki thought, his sharp tongue and keen wit a wonderful match to Loki's own, and there have already been brief flashes of… not familiarity, perhaps, but a certain _understanding_ , a knowledge on both sides that this could become something good.

At least Loki thinks that was on both sides. He isn't entirely sure, but he believes he saw the realization flicker up in Anthony's eyes now and then.

Apart from that, he can't tell what Anthony thinks of him. Yes, the young god is wary, but he isn't afraid. He isn't even careful most of the time; a few times his witty remarks bordered on being hidden insults, which Loki could not help but be amused by. Anthony protects his workshop and inventions more than himself. Loki hopes that as long as he never does anything that could endanger Anthony's creations and doesn't ask too many or preferably no questions at all about his work, Anthony might come to like him eventually. If that is anywhere close to a real possibility or just wishful thinking, Loki doesn't know.

Either way, for there to be even the slightest chance of his dreams coming true one day,  Anthony has to stay a very long while. A few weeks are not enough, but that is what they agreed on. _A few weeks_ , and then they would see if Anthony still wants to stay. Loki is sure that Anthony doesn't _want_ to leave - he is still working and enjoying his workshop day and night, Loki can't imagine that the young inventor wants to leave that behind. And still he fears that that is just what is going to happen, and that these few weeks he's had are everything he will ever get.

But, well. Loki knows that he won't stop Anthony from leaving, should that be what he wants. And Loki is determined to enjoy _this_ as long as it lasts.

Which should be a bit easier now that Thor doesn't think he's a prisoner anymore - what he thinks _instead_ Loki tries to store away somewhere in the back of his mind - because he will hopefully stop pestering Loki. That doesn't mean that Odin has given up, of course; Thor can say as many good words for Loki as he wants, that won't make Odin change is opinion. And there are still Anthony's parents. Maria has not stopped looking for a way into Loki's realm, and Loki hasn't answered her many attempts at talking to him. Sometimes he wonders what Anthony's father thinks of this whole affair. _He_ hasn't tried to speak to Loki yet, and Loki doubts that he will.

Loki knows how fragile this is, that it won't last very long and that it most likely will never grow into what he _really_ wants. But he almost doesn't care if shared meals are the only thing he and Anthony will ever have.

Maybe they will never be more than this, and even though this is almost nothing it could still be enough, as long as he can see or even make Anthony smile once or twice a day.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

“So, assuming he’s Asgardian - which is like, really freaking unlikely, because Odin wouldn’t put an Aesir on _this_ throne? But well, he has the accent and if he really grew up with Thor, who probably didn’t even know that realms other than Asgard _exist_ until he was like a thousand years old, he has to be an Aesir. Or at least, uh, as Aesir-like as one can be, because they’re shit at letting un-Aesir-like people live in Asgard. I’m the living example.”

“ _You didn’t grow up in Asgard because your mother is from Vanaheim and insisted you grow up there.”_

“Yes, and she insisted on that because she already knew back then that I’m weird.”

“ _You are not weird, Sir._ ”

“I am, and you know it. So, back to the point.” Tony pulls up a time bar on one of his screens, a glowing golden line flickering with energy. “ _Assuming_ he’s Asgardian, his life span comes to about six thousand years. Thor celebrated his three thousandth birthday - here, I think.” Tony marks the year on the time bar; it was a little more than a century ago. “Loki said that Thor’s just a few centuries older, so he must be… somewhere between two thousand five hundred and three thousand years old. I _really_ thought he was older.”

“ _He looks younger_ ”, JARVIS says thoughtfully.

“Yes, but the way he acts - and his magic feels freaking _ancient_. If he’s really younger than three thousand, he’s the most powerful mage I’ve ever heard of.”

“ _You are impressed_.”

“And I have every right to be”, Tony adds, nodding. His finger wanders to the left on the time bar. “So. Let’s go with, say, two thousand seven hundred years? He was born around here, then, give or take some centuries.” Below the timeline, Tony calls up the events that took place at the estimated time of Loki’s birth. He skims the events, his eyebrows shooting up. “That means he was born in the middle of the war with the Jotnar. That’s absurdly fitting for the God of Death.”

JARVIS makes a pensive sound. “ _He wasn’t yet the God of Death then_.”

“Yes, he pretty much confirmed that, didn’t he”, Tony murmurs. His finger wanders closer to present on the time bar. “Aesir come of age with nine hundred years. Assuming he spent his whole childhood on Asgard, with Thor, then he lived there probably until”, he sets another mark, “here. Well, roughly. I was born here.” Another line on the scale, nine hundred and eighty four years ago. “If it’s true that he was the God of Death before I was born, and if he left Asgard shortly before or _because_ he was assigned a different task, then he _became_ the God of Death somewhere between, uh - two thousand and thousand years ago?” Tony highlights the period of time in bright red and stares at it for a moment before taking a look at the events that occured during it. “Right. That doesn’t help us at all. Unless - Wait. Wait, what did I just say?”

“ _When exactly?_ ”

Tony is too busy thinking to answer. “I said that this is the period in which he was assigned… _Assigned_ , you can’t just change tasks whenever you want to, actually you can’t change tasks _at all._ Right? So if he became the God of Death at some point, he must have been the god of something else _before_ that, and that means that he did change tasks.” Tony clicks his tongue, eyes flickering over the time bar. “There’s only one person who could possibly have the power to take their task away from someone and give them a new one, and that is the person who assigns tasks in the first place. And that would be…”

Tony trails off, and after a moment JARVIS helpfully fills in, “ _The King of the Nine Realms, Sir._ ”

“Exactly”, Tony breathes. “Odin. Well, shit.”

This is personal.

It’s not some kind of harmless prank Loki’s pulling off because he likes to play political chess with the Allfather. _I do not want to be the God of Death_ , Loki said, and if Tony’s right and it was Odin who _made_ Loki the God of Death, then - then this is not a game for Loki, not at all. No, this is Loki seeing a chance to piss Odin the fuck off, piss him off by _helping_ someone who isn’t happy with the task he’s been given, either. This is Loki seeing Tony and going _I recognize you_ , this is Loki _using_ Tony for getting what he wants, and what he wants is - yes, to piss Odin off, but maybe - Maybe there is _more_ behind all of this. Maybe Tony has stumbled into a rebellion without noticing, maybe this is just what he _needed._

Because it is possible to lose your task and get a new one. It’s possible to change what you are, to become something else and yes, that is just what Tony wants.

He has never wanted to be the God of Spring.

But Loki also said _I don’t see how that changes anything._ That didn’t sound like someone planning to start a rebellion against one of the oldest rules of the universe. And if Loki does plan something like that, why not let Tony in on it? _Because he doesn’t know if he can trust me._ Well, Tony doesn’t know if he can trust Loki, either. Hel, he doesn’t know if any of this is even true, but it would make so much _sense._

He thinks about Loki, about his sharp eyes and short-lived smirks. About the awed looks when he stood in this workshop, just a few steps away from where Tony is standing now, and about a fidgeting hand reaching out for the back of a chair. His expression at breakfast, so uncharacteristically dumbfounded because Tony told him something about his work in a feigned display of trust, just to make Thor think that they’re friends rather than prisoner and jailer. And not just dumbfounded, but - hurt, maybe, but not really that, either. Longing. Would you look at someone like that if you just wanted to use them as a pawn against the Allfather? Could that be the reason, was it _personal_ just in a way of “I realized that you could be of use to me, and because of that I’m looking at you like you are the freaking center of the universe”?

No.

“Not a rebellion, then”, Tony says to nobody in particular. He saves the time bar he created and then wipes it out. Every screen in the room disappears at his command, and then he just stands there, his mind reeling.  

Maybe it started like one, though. Maybe Loki began watching him because he saw these similarities Tony just discovered, and then it became - yes, what? Tony isn’t sure. He thought about this before, a few weeks ago, and it isn’t like the realization hadn’t already been _there_ , somewhere in the back of his mind. He just didn’t allow himself to think about it too much, because the thought is, to be honest, a bit scary. And ridiculous. But now -

Tony’s right hand grasps his left wrist, his thumb stroking over JARVIS’ bracelet in a by now ingrained habit.

“JARVIS?”

“ _Yes, Sir?_ ”

“He likes me. He fucking _likes_ me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* He figured it out! Is this the right place and time to announce the imminent beginning of actual _romance_ ? (Yes, it is.)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO MANY COMMENTS FOR THE LAST CHAPTER. THANK YOU. ❤❤❤

Loki is used to boredom. Helheim isn't exactly rich in variety and most of his duties can be taken care of from literally anywhere. The dead are peaceful creatures and don't cause trouble very often, and since Loki doesn't have to talk to or even see them to take care of them - actually, he doesn't even have to _concentrate_ on his task anymore -, he spends most of his time in the throne room or in his library, or just aimlessly walking around. After almost two millennia of that, Loki is very familiar with the state of, well - being bored to death.

Now, things are changing.

It isn't like Loki's daily routine is much different. He has always tried to hold onto some kind of day-night rhythm, so breakfast in the “morning” and dinner in the “evening” isn’t anything new. Of course he always ate alone, except for the few occasions he allowed Thor to stay long enough to have dinner with him. But now Anthony is here, and Loki moves hand over hand from breakfast to dinner to breakfast, as if those are the only moments worth living for. As if those are the moments worth _thinking_ about. Loki cannot think of anything else and, if he’s honest, it is starting to get annoying. It’s strange, how the knowledge that Anthony is so close makes Loki’s days so much brighter and so maddening at the same time. Of course, not being able to concentrate on reading or spellcrafting anymore is a price Loki will gladly pay for the sake of having Anthony nearby.

He just wishes he could spend more time with the other god.

But Anthony is working, and Loki has no idea how to make him leave his workshop and do something with Loki instead. And even if he knew how, he wouldn’t know _what_ to do - it isn’t like Helheim provides him with any abilities Anthony might consider fun. And he can’t just rely on _conversation_ ; that he could spend hours talking to Anthony without getting bored or wanting to do anything else does not mean Anthony would enjoy it just as much.

At least Anthony seems to make progress with whatever he is working on, because he is smiling a little more when Loki sees him, and smiling _at Loki_ more often. He hasn’t told Loki anything about his work, not since that small bit he talked about to placate Thor, and Loki hasn’t asked. He thinks that Anthony has discarded at least some of his suspicion towards Loki since Thor was here, and Loki doesn’t want to do anything to ruin that progress. He isn’t sure why Anthony is - or at least seems to be - more relaxed since the oaf’s visit (maybe because he thinks a brother of _Thor_ can’t be that bad? That would be rather naive.) but he hopes that it is a good sign, that it means that Anthony isn’t planning on leaving soon. He hasn’t asked to leave so far, at least, and hasn’t even demanded to speak to his parents - in fact, they haven’t talked about anything related to their deal. Loki doesn’t quite understand that, either, but he isn’t about to question any of this as long as it is to his advantage.

He just wishes -

With a sigh Loki puts his book down and rubs his eyes. Before Anthony walked into that forest and almost killed himself, Loki had been working on this rather complicated spell to improve his clones, and he would actually like to come back to that but, well. He can’t concentrate. He closes the heavy tome he’s been trying to read in and turns to his notes instead. There is still some glitch in the spell that he doesn’t yet know how to get rid of, but right now he can't even hope to find a solution; his mind wanders to Anthony too consistently. He wonders if Anthony could do this. He is a skilled mage, that much is obvious, but Loki doesn’t know much more than that. From what he saw in Anthony’s workshop, the young god’s interests lie more in modern magic and inventing than actual spellwork.

For a second, he imagines going and knocking at the door of his guest's workshop, and asking if Anthony would be interested in taking a look at one of Loki's projects. The idea makes him cringe; Anthony would consider him ridiculous. A god almost thrice his age, the literal king of a whole realm, asking for _help_?  No. A terrible idea.

It isn't like he can't solve this problem, anyway. He certainly can.

He just needs to clear his head.

Standing up and stretching, he considers spending some time with his son. Fenrir can most often be found patrolling along the river, but he leaves Helheim now and then to hunt. Normally he visits the palace every few days, but since Anthony is here Loki has barely seen him. Actually he has been avoiding his son, mostly because Fenrir won't stop teasing him about his “lovesickness” and giving well-meant but not at all helpful advice.

_Lovesickness._

The worst thing about that is that Loki can't even deny it.

After a moment of just standing around, he rolls his eyes at himself and replaces the comfortable tunic he’s been wearing with his leather jacket and coat. As he moves to leave the room, force of habit makes him check where Anthony is at the moment. He doesn't expect him to be anywhere else than in his workshop, so the realization that Anthony is _not_ in his workshop makes Loki freeze, and the realization that Anthony is _very, very close_ makes him panic.

Anthony is walking through Loki’s wing of the palace. In fact, he has just passed Loki's bathroom, moving slowly and carefully, Groot perched on his shoulders as always when he leaves his corridor.

It takes Loki but a thought to make first his steps inaudible, then himself invisible. The broad door that leads to the corridor is open as always, and since the library is at the end of the hallway, Loki can immediately see Anthony approaching him. The god briefly stops in front of Loki's bedroom - that door is closed, which Loki is silently relieved about - and for a moment Loki thinks he will try to peek through the keyhole, but then Anthony starts walking again. He hesitates once more when he sees that the door at the end of the corridor is open, his steps slowing while he looks directly at Loki without seeing him. But he doesn't turn around and walk away, instead he starts walking again, heading for library. Loki takes a hasty step aside in case Anthony wants to enter, but for the moment the just stands directly in front of the open door and looks at what little he can see from the library. He seems surprised. Groot wants to climb down from his shoulder, but Anthony's hand gently keeps him in place.

A few seconds pass, then Anthony hesitantly calls, “Loki?”

Loki doesn't answer. He can't find his voice, and even if he did he can hardly just make himself visible again, because how should he explain hiding from sight in the first place? These are his rooms; if one of them should try to remain unseen, it should be Anthony.

Anthony stands in front of the library for quite a while, apparently thinking. In the end, his curiosity seems to outweigh his wariness - of course it does, it’s Anthony - and he sneaks past Loki into the library.

“Holy shit”, he says quietly after he’s taken a few steps into the big room. He looks at the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves as if he has never seen a library before, so distracted by the sight that he lets his hand that kept Groot from running off sink, which leads to Groot disappearing between the shelves in a matter of seconds. Anthony calls after his creation in a hushed tone, then sighs when it becomes obvious that Groot won’t listen. Rubbing his neck, the young god looks around, and it doesn’t take long until he spots Loki’s desk. He glances right and left, then tiptoes towards it. The desk is cluttered with books and notes, and it seems like Anthony is drawn to it like a moth to flame. He lets his eyes wander over the covers of the books and eventually bends over Loki’s notes, reading everything he can see without moving the papers around.

Loki leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed, and watches.

The question is what Anthony wants. He hasn’t tried to explore the palace or the rest of Helheim since the day they made their deal, and even though Loki knows that curiosity could be the only reason for Anthony being here, he doubts it. No, it seems like Anthony was looking for _him_ , like he wants to speak to Loki about something, which means that -

Which means that Anthony wants to leave.

As soon as Loki comes to that conclusion, he can’t think for a while. He just stares at Anthony, standing in the middle of Loki’s library, a room that nobody else has ever seen before until now, and tries to take in every detail of this picture. The brown hair that looks like it has never seen a brush before. A few oil stains on a blood red tunic, pants tucked untidily into knee-high leather boots. Loki can’t see Anthony’s eyes, but he doesn’t have to. He can imagine the look in them perfectly.

Anthony wants to leave? So be it.

Loki will think of this moment every day, for the rest of his life.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?”

Anthony flinches at the sound of Loki’s voice and spins around, hissing a curse when he sees Loki standing in the doorway. Anthony needs but a moment to catch his breath, eyes widening in realization that he has been caught.

Loki lifts a brow. “Well?”

“I, uh”, Anthony starts. “I looked everywhere for you, and the door was open, so -”

“So you decided to take a look at my private notes.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”, Loki repeats, amused.

Anthony huffs. He makes a pointed step away from Loki’s desk. “What do you want me to say? You literally caught me looking just now. But I didn’t touch anything, I was just curious.”

“I see.” Loki makes his way over to Anthony, aware that the Vanir is watching his every movement. “And what do you think?”

Anthony looks at him blankly. “Think?”

“About my studies”, Loki explains, nodding at his notes.

Anthony glances from Loki to the desk and back. He seems wary, as if he believes Loki is messing with him. Loki just keeps looking at him expectantly, and after a while Anthony dares to ask, “Can you really make touchable clones?”

“Yes”, Loki says.

“No way”, Anthony parries at once, crossing his arms.

Loki accepts the challenge with a roll of his eyes and brings a clone of himself into being. Anthony doesn’t flinch when a perfect copy of Loki appears right next to him, looking at him with a perfect replica of Loki’s amused smirk.

“Okay, fine”, Anthony says after studying the clone for a few seconds. “That looks very solid, but if it’s touchable -” He cuts himself off and looks at Loki again.

Loki allows himself to grin. “There is only one way to find out.”

Anthony narrow his eyes, but he turns back to the clone again and reaches out with a hesitant finger that eventually prods the clone’s chest. Anthony’s eyes widen and he pokes the clone again a few times, fascinated.

“That is quite enough, I think”, the clone interrupts after a moment, grasping Anthony’s wrist to stop him.

“Oh”, Anthony breathes. “It can talk.”

The clone wrinkles his nose. “Of course I can talk. And I am not an _it._ ”

“You are”, Anthony and Loki say at the same time; Loki with a sigh, Anthony with a grin.

The clone pouts and lets go of Anthony’s wrist, but not without letting its fingertips brush the god’s skin more gentle than necessary - and that is Loki’s cue to make it disappear again.

“That’s pretty impressive”, Anthony says. He’s still grinning, and his eyes shine with fascination. “I could tell it’s not you, though.”

Actually surprised, Loki can feel his eyebrows shoot up. “You could? How?”

Anthony’s grin changes into something smug as he shrugs, “It’s not alive. You are.”

“Of course I am”, Loki says, and clears his throat when he realizes that his tone is too similar to the one his clone used earlier.

“Yeah”, Anthony says. He rubs his wrist where the clone touched him, then points at Loki’s notes. “I don’t know much about shapeshifting, though. Actually I’m not even sure if I understand what the problem is.”

“I can tell you, if you’d like”, Loki offers before he can hold himself back. He doesn’t give Anthony a chance to reply anything. “But first I would like to know why you came here in the first place.”

“Oh. I, ah - I looked everywhere for you, but you weren’t in the throne room… I think one of the guards helped me, at least they showed me in which direction to go, and then I kind of just walked around and ended up here.”

“And why?”

Anthony hesitates, eyes flickering away before he says, “I wanted to go for a walk? In Helheim, I mean. And I figured since you’d probably watch me the whole time, anyway - you know, to make sure that I don’t _stick my nose into things that aren’t my business_ , like you said - well, you could just… come with me?”

Loki can’t do anything but stare at him for a very long time. “What?”, he asks then, because he has not the slightest idea what is happening.

Anthony blinks, and slowly breaks into a grin. “You could come with me”, he says again. “On a walk. You could be my tourist guide, and keep me from falling into that river or something.”

_He doesn’t want to leave._

That’s the first and only thought Loki has, and it takes him another few seconds to find his voice again. “Yes. Yes, I - don’t see a reason why we… shouldn’t.”

Anthony snorts. “There are like a million reasons why we shouldn’t”, he says and walks off in direction of the door. “But who cares, right? Groot, come here.”

The little tree comes into sight again and saunters after his creator to the door. Loki just stands next to his desk, still staring at the younger god.

“You coming?”

Loki pulls himself together and follows Anthony, who lets him take the lead as soon as they have left the library. He doesn’t say anything, and Loki feels that something about this is… off. He cannot put his finger on it, and after trying for a moment he finds that he doesn’t actually care. Anthony asked to spend time with him. Anthony _left his workshop_ to _spend time with Loki._

Loki still doesn’t understand what’s happening, but he is starting to like it.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

“What the fuck am I even doing”, Tony mutters to himself, rifling through his clothes.

“ _I_ _believe you are courting the God of Death, Sir._ ”

“Am not.”

“ _Apologies, you are_ pretending _to be courting the God of Death._ ”

“Am not”, Tony says again. He doesn't know how JARVIS can make silence sound judging, but it seems to be one of his special talents. Tony feels compelled to continue, “I'm not pretending anything.”

“ _Alright_ ”, JARVIS says. “ _You are befriending the God of Death, then._ ”

“Yeah.” Tony nods, mostly to convince himself, and then makes a face. “Something like that.”

He finally pulls something out of the closet, a very nice green tunic with golden adornments on the sleeve hems. He puts it over the back of a chair and looks for something to wear on top of it, ending up with some sort of waistcoat that looks more like light armor, made of dark leather. There are a few golden accents that match those of the tunic nicely, and Tony knows he will look amazing in these clothes. He still hesitates before he takes them on.

“ _T_ _his is not your usual style_ ”, JARVIS remarks casually when Tony stands in front of the window.

“Loki will like it”, is the first response Tony can think of and yeah, he should have kept that to himself.

“ _And that matters a lot, of course, since you are_ befriending _him_.”

“You're far too sassy.”

“ _Why, I wonder where I got that from._ ”

Tony snorts and runs a hand through his hair; trying to get his half-locks into something a bit tidier and only making them messier in the process. He sighs and forces himself to let his hand sink again, still staring at his reflection.

“I’m not courting him”, Tony repeats. It sounds weak, and he knows it.

See, the thing is - Tony hasn't ever courted anyone. He has never been courted before, either. There were a few occasions of sneaking away into some dark corner with, well, whoever was there at the moment, and that was mostly always fun, but never anything more than a means to make boring get-togethers with people-his-father-thinks-are-important a little _less_ boring. None of those people were even remotely interesting, not even the ones Tony sneaked away with. Actually, Tony hasn't ever been _interested_ in that sort of thing at all. Yes, he was curious, maybe he still is, but it isn't on the top of his priority list, the whole sex and love and - _shudder_ \- marriage thing. His creations were always more important to him and they still are, but now there's also -

 _Loki_. Yes, now there's also Loki, and he might or might not have a crush on Tony. No, actually - He _definitely_ has a crush on Tony, hasn't he? The signs are obvious enough since Tony figured out what he has to look out for. And even though Tony isn't quite sure what to do what that, he _is_ curious, so he more or less decided to just… roll with it.

He was angry at first, that day when he figured it out. Because yes, the whole situation is sort of creepy. He has no idea how long Loki's been watching him before this started, he doesn't know what Loki wants from him exactly since the only thing he has done so far is trying to hide his crush as good as possible. Hel, he doesn't even know why Loki likes him in the first place.

He would be the first.

And that's the reason he isn't angry anymore; probably. By now, he is… intrigued, maybe. ( _Definitely_ not charmed, thank you very much.) Because, if he's honest, Loki isn't that bad. Not bad at all, in fact; Tony figured that out too, by now. Sure, he likes to act cold and distant, but that's not all there is to him. He can be pretty funny, actually, and obviously he's smart. That makes him better company than Tony had in... forever.

Almost three have passed since Thor was here, two since Tony and Loki went on that walk, and while they haven't done anything else than eat together since then, the atmosphere at those meals has somehow gotten a lot less strained. When they walked the shadowy streets of Helheim, Loki told him all about his clones, answered every question Tony had with patience and - and that was even better - _actually listened to what Tony had to say in response._ He is the first to do that, too. (Not counting JARVIS and Tony's other creations.) Loki is still very polite, almost hesitant, like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He seemed absolutely perplexed when Tony showed up in his library and only relaxed a little when Tony started babbling about what little he knew about clones and shapeshifting. Not that Tony couldn’t understand that, he was a bit perplexed himself. But he’d spent a week in his workshop, _unable_ to work because the thought of Loki possibly having a crush on him had been damn distracting, and what was he supposed to do other than call Loki out on the whole thing? Okay, fine, he hasn’t yet called Loki out on anything. He wanted to, initially, but then Loki seemed so _happy_ at the prospect of going on a freaking walk together and Tony didn’t want to ruin the other god’s good mood. And then Loki procured Tony’s favorite food for dinner. And then he pulled out the chair for him at breakfast. And then he smiled at Groot. And then he forgot to eat because his book was so interesting, and then, and then, and then - so many _and thens_ since their walk, how can Tony just ruin any of that?

Loki looks nice when he smiles.

Tony scoffs at himself before he finally turns away from the mirror. He picks up Groot from the bed and makes him sit on his shoulder before he heads out of his rooms. Groot has grown a little bit since they are here, which Tony is immensely relieved about. He wasn’t sure if the garden he built for his creation would suffice, but apparently it does. In a few weeks Groot will start to get big for Tony to carry him on his shoulder, though, and eventually he’ll need to live in a real forest, Tony knows that. Maybe he can build one here in Helheim. If he stays long enough, that is.

At the moment he doesn’t feel like leaving anytime soon, despite the whole (not-)courting business. (Or because of it? No.) He sees no reason why he should give both his workshop and the privacy up, and it’s not like his parents will miss him. Well, his mother might, but in the end it’s Howard who decides. And Tony’s pretty sure _what_ he will decide, if he hasn’t decided it already. Tony won’t be able to go home, probably. Maybe he isn’t even a Stark anymore.

He doesn’t really care. (That’s what he keeps telling himself, at least.)

Loki is already in the dining room when Tony comes in, like always. The walls look like they are made of stone today, and the furniture looks rather outdated - wood and furs, one of those old fireplaces at one side of the room. The fire isn’t green, which is almost a weird sight by now. Tony’s gotten used to the green flames that are everywhere in the palace.

Loki doesn’t look up when Tony enters; he’s lost in a book. Tony has gotten used to that, too.

“Wanted to try something new today?”, he asks when he’s about to sit down across from Loki. Only then the older good looks up at him. He opens his mouth, probably to say something snarky in response, but then he takes a closer look at Tony and doesn’t say anything at all. His mouth stays open for a few seconds longer, until Tony lifts a brow at him.

Loki blinks at him, then clears his throat and looks down at his book. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Tony can’t quite suppress his grin. He _knew_ Loki would like it. “The interior design, it looks different today.”

“Oh.” Loki lifts his head again, but looks around the room, not at Tony. “Well, it looks different every day.”

Yes, it does. Because Loki’s trying to find something Tony likes. (That one was not hard to figure out.) “I liked how it looked like yesterday.”

Loki wrinkles his nose, but a moment later the room around them changes. It doesn’t look exactly like it did yesterday, but the style is the same - Midgardian, Tony thinks. It all looks kind of sleek and not really colorful, but Tony does like it. Especially the broad windows Loki conjured up, giving them a lovely view over the skyline of a Midgardian city. When he looks back at Loki he can tell that _he_ doesn’t like it, though. It makes Tony laugh.

“You can change it back”, he says and helps himself to some food.

“It’s fine”, Loki instantly replies.

“You hate it.”

“I don’t -”

“Don’t lie.”

Loki’s expression resembles a pout, which makes Tony laugh again. It earns him a glare that doesn’t look half as intimidating as Loki probably wants it to be, because there’s also that smile tugging at his lips.

“Change it back”, Tony says again, and Loki’s smile becomes a little bit brighter before he gets it under control again.

“As you wish”, he says, sounding indifferent, and the room changes again, back into the look from earlier. Tony has to admit that it’s more comfortable.

They are silent for a while, both eating and, in Tony’s case, keeping an eye on Groot. Surprisingly it's Loki who breaks the silence after a few minutes, even though he does it quietly and hesitantly.

“You look rather good in green.”

Tony's startled into looking at Loki again and then he snorts, because really, _rather good_? He looks amazing, and they both know it.

“Right back at you, dear”, he says, grinning, and Loki actually rolls his eyes at the endearment. Tony considers that progress. (He also thinks Loki's faint blush is kind of adorable.)

Loki doesn't really meet his eyes after that, but Tony can't stop smiling to himself. He watches out of the corner of his eyes as Loki opens his book again, most likely to act casual, and listens to the quiet flutter when Loki turns the pages. It makes him forget about Groot, which quickly turns out to be a mistake. The sapling has found the bowl with walnuts - Tony doesn't really understand why, but Loki likes to eat them for dessert - and apparently thinks it's a good idea to throw a nut at the ruler of Helheim.

It's a good thing Loki has quick reflexes; he just catches the walnut before it hits him right in the face. He raises a brow at Groot, but then turns to his book again and -

And tosses the walnut back to Groot, who tosses it back again, which somehow leads to the two of them playing ball (nut) at the dinner table.

You know what, fuck it.

Tony is courting the God of Death.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

“You're a traitor, do you know that?”, Anthony says, at his creation and pouting. “A traitor.”

Loki flashes him a grin and isn't even bothered by the glare _he_ gets then; he knows that Anthony does not mean it. “Don't scold him, he merely chose the best observation point.”

“Are you calling me short?”

“Yes”, Loki replies simply.

“Rude.”

“My sincerest apologies”, Loki drawls, then winces when Groot begins playing with his hair again. That usually involves a lot of tugging and tearing - the twig is surprisingly strong for how small he is - and Loki always looks ridiculous when Groot is done, but he just can’t deny the child anything. So his hair gets clumsily braided every once in a while, but mostly at breakfast or dinner when Groot is bored. Right now they are making their way out of the palace because Anthony demanded another, proper tour of Helheim (they were distracted by “science talk” the other time, he said), and Groot has apparently decided that he has a better view sitting on Loki’s shoulder than on Anthony’s. The young inventor acts like he’s bothered by that, but Loki took a moment to study his expression and saw the amused glint in his eyes, the beginning of a smile on his lips.

“He likes you”, Anthony says when they enter the throne room. He is looking at Loki from the side, still smiling.

It feels like a compliment, so naturally Loki’s heart skips a beat. He can’t keep from smiling now, either, though he tries to hide it by turning his face away, pretending to look around the great hall. “Probably because I keep playing with him at the dinner table.”

“Yeah, you’re making it really hard to teach him table manners.”

“Because you set such great store on those”, Loki counters before he can hold himself back. To his relief, Anthony just laughs - by now it almost seems that he enjoys the rare times Loki dares to banter with him, which makes Loki want to dare that more often.

“Fair enough”, Anthony says, still smiling, and nods at the guards when they open the heavy doors for them.

In the dim, greenish black light of Helheim, Anthony looks very pale. He spent much time in the sun before he came here, and it seems like his skin suffers from the lack of it now. Loki feels a not so brief pang of guilt, but he is quickly distracted by one of Anthony’s dazzling grins. (They never fail to take his breath away for a second; it’s ridiculous.) Besides, Anthony is wearing green again. He looks far too good in it, and despite his paleness it seems like he _fits_ here. That sight alone makes Loki feel warmer than he has in ages.

“So, take the lead”, Anthony tells him cheerfully. “What do you want to show me first?”

“There is not much to show, I’m afraid”, Loki says, but he does lead the way into the city around his palace. “This place is not physical in a way you might imagine. There are many different layers, all existing next to or _in_ each other, at the same time. They are rather hard to distinguish.”

“Care to elaborate on that?”, Anthony asks, so Loki does.

“No place could be big enough to shelter everyone who did not die in battle, so Helheim is no place, not truly. Every soul has a… sphere, you could say, for themselves, though one is often shared by family and friends, sometimes even by whole villages or cities. What you can see is a blend of all those spheres that exists more in a… metaphorical way.”

“So it’s not real.”

“It is”, Loki says, glancing at Anthony’s doubtful expression with a smile. “It’s merely not the sort of reality you are familiar with.”

They have reached the city of Helheim now, and promptly some of the dead start to follow them again. They seem attached to Anthony’s heels every time he steps a foot into the city; a mystery Loki can’t explain. Anthon doesn’t seem to mind, just looks at the souls rather briefly before concentrating on Loki again.

“This metaphorical existence thing”, he says. “Is that why they all look like shadows?”

“Yes. I imagine they see something similar when they look at us.”

“You imagine?”

“I can’t say for sure”, Loki says, hesitating. “I know what their spheres look like for them, but I have never seen somebody alive from their point of view. Fenrir doesn’t enter the city.”

“Why not?”, Anthony asks. He sounds oddly careful.

“They fear him.”

“Ah.” Anthony pauses, but after a while he says, clearly trying for a joke, “Must be the teeth.”

Loki smiles tightly, and Anthony doesn’t say anything else. Loki doesn’t look at him, but he is sure that he understands.

Of course Loki has never seen somebody alive from the dead souls’ point of view; he has been the only living person walking these streets for centuries. Well, except for Thor’s rare visits, but they have never spoken about how Helheim _works_. Thor prefers to pretend that Helheim doesn’t even exist, actually.

“Hey”, Anthony says after a long moment. He waits until Loki looks at him again before he continues, “We could try it. I want to see those spheres, anyway.”

Loki stops walking, Anthony following suit a second later. Loki looks at him with a frown. “Why?”

Anthony blinks, then shrugs. “Why not? I’m curious. And you too, right?”

Loki purses his lips and mulls it over. Anthony just looks at him expectantly, obviously waiting for an answer. Eventually Loki pulls himself together and asks, “Can you do astral projection?”

Anthony seems surprised, but he still nods. “Yeah, sure.”

“Are you certain? It’s a rather diffi -”

“I can do it”, Anthony interrupts, and Loki very nearly smiles. He knows that Anthony doesn’t enjoy being underestimated - who does? - and Loki would never dare to, he knows what Anthony is capable of. He is still worried, though, because astral projection _is_ difficult, especially for someone as young as Anthony.

“I would have to lead you into one of the spheres”, Loki says carefully, studying the other god’s face. “You would not find the way on your own.”

“You do that, then.”

It takes Loki a long moment to understand what Anthony just said, what he just agreed too, and so unceremoniously at that. No mage lets another lead their astral body _anywhere_ , especially not somewhere they have never been before themselves. Loki thinks about what Anthony said even before they made their deal, _I’m young, not stupid._ No, Anthony isn’t stupid, but he is reckless and too curious for his own good, sometimes. Anthony doesn’t even know Loki, how can he possibly trust him with something as important as the literal core of him? How can Loki _let_ Anthony trust him with this?”

“Are you sure?”, Loki asks slowly. He knows that he sounds hesitant and insecure, but he can’t help it.

“Yes”, Anthony says, his tone light. “Can we do it now?”

Loki stares at him for a while longer, but eventually he gives in. He is aware that the fact that Anthony is actually _trusting him right now_ might sway his common sense a bit, but he really doesn’t care. He wants to grin, to _beam_ , his lips are already twitching, but he keeps himself under control and just smiles a little, nodding into the direction they have to take.

“If you are sure. We should do it where the veil between the spheres is thin. That will make it easier.”

“Cool.” Anthony motions for Loki to lead the way again, then comes to walk right next to him. “I still don’t really get how the whole thing works.”

“The magic is very old and complicated. To be honest, I don’t understand all of it, either.”

Anthony smiles at that. “It’s a part of Yggdrasil, right?”

Nodding, Loki replies,  “We are at the very bottom of the World Tree.”

“Right. And those spheres, they just… I don’t know, turn up every time somebody dies?”

“Not quite. I create and shape them, and I make sure every soul is where it has and wants to be. Sometimes they stray into a sphere that isn’t meant for them, then I have to take them back.”

“So that’s your task?”, Anthony says, incredulous for some reason.

Loki glances at him and quirks a brow. “Does that surprise you?”

“Well yeah, I thought -” Anthony cuts himself off, frowning. “I thought you were the God of _Death_.”

“That is my title, yes.”

“But you… Do you also, uh - you know, kill people?”

Loki blinks and stops walking again to look at Anthony properly. “To pass my time, you mean?”, he asks dryly, and after a moment Anthony huffs.

“You’re messing with me”, he says, his tone playfully accusing. “I asked you a honest question, and you’re messing with me.”

“I am not messing with you”, Loki all but snaps, and Anthony’s amused expression fades. “I merely don’t understand what you are asking. If you believe I _kill people_ as a pastime, I have to disappoint you, I do not.”

Anthony’s eyes widen and he shakes his head, speaking very quickly, “No, Loki, I don’t believe that, not really.”

“ _Not really_?”, Loki repeats sharply.

There is a defensive edge to his voice when Anthony says, “You _are_ the God of Death, what the fuck am I supposed to believe? Maybe you don’t enjoy it, but -”

“I do not decide when or how anybody dies”, Loki cuts him off. “I do not kill them, I _take care of them_. That is my task, and nothing else.”

Anthony takes a moment too long to respond, enough time for Loki to put an end to the discussion and turn around, walking back into the direction of the palace. What does Anthony _think_ ? That Loki just runs around the Nine Realms and ends lifes, just to fill his kingdom? That’s not how it _works_.

It could easily seem that way to Anthony, though, and to everybody else. They all speak of Loki as if he is death himself, at least, as if he is a monster that brings nothing but ruin to everything it touches. Loki knows that, and he doesn’t care about it. He doesn’t. They can all think whatever they like, it doesn’t _matter._ But Anthony -

What Anthony thinks does matter. There is not much that matters more, in fact. And if Anthony thinks him a monster, too...

Of course, Loki has killed before and he would do it again if necessary, without much hesitation. He shouldn’t be so upset about this. He knew that Anthony doesn’t think highly of him. Nobody does, nobody ever _has_. He shouldn’t even be surprised, but he is. He thought it was going well, that Anthony might be starting to… like him, maybe, just a bit. He even showed some trust to Loki earlier, didn’t he? Why would he do that if he thinks that Loki is nothing more than the God of Death, and everything that title implies?

Why is he still _here_?

“Loki, for fuck’s sake! Hang on a minute, you can’t just run off!”

Loki is about to snarl something, but then there is a warm hand on his arm, trying to keep him in place. He could easily break free, but he doesn’t, because Anthony has never touched him before and frankly Loki is stunned, enough that he forgets his anger and frustration for a second. Anthony doesn’t immediately let go of his arm, either, he just stands there and stares up at him, looking angry himself, and also confused and… guilty.

“Hey”, Anthony says, sounding a bit breathless. His brows a are drawn into a deep frown. “Don’t run away, okay? Don’t run at all, actually, Groot looks like he’s about to puke.”

Remorse overcomes Loki when he looks at the sapling still sitting on his shoulder. He only now notices that Groot is clinging to his hair. The twig does look like he isn’t feeling that well. Clenching his teeth, Loki takes him off his shoulder and wants to hand him over to Anthony, but he shakes his head.

“No, keep him for now. He likes you. Just let him lie down, he isn’t good with high speed.”

Frowning, Loki pulls Groot close to his chest. The sapling makes himself comfortable in Loki’s hands, hiding his face in the leather of Loki’s jacket.

“He’s fine”, Anthony says. “I’m sorry.”

Loki stares at him.

“I am”, Anthony stresses. “Really. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything, and I don’t think you’re some kind of serial killer, either. I know you didn’t murder all these people here. This is a place for natural deaths, right?”

Loki nods very slowly.

“I could have worded my question a bit better, probably. I just wanted to know if you… _bring_ them here, too.”

“I don’t”, Loki says curtly, and Anthony nods.

“Okay, cool. I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you did. If that were your task. It would be a bit creepy, but I wouldn’t think worse of you. If that’s what you’re worried about, I mean.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Right.”

They look at each other, and after a moment Anthony averts his eyes. He clears his throat and takes his hand away, not without lightly squeezing Loki’s arm. “So, uh. We good?”

Loki nods again, but stays quiet. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Okay, hey - I still want to see those spheres.”

Loki swallows and looks away, too, shaking his head. “Not right now.”

“Oh”, Anthony says, and Loki almost flinches at the disappointed sound of his voice. But then the younger god adds, “That’s fine. We can do something else.”

Loki looks at him warily. “And what?”

“I don’t know”, Anthony says lightly. He thinks about it for a moment. “Do you still have that problem with your clones?”

“It’s not a problem”, Loki objects immediately, but when Anthony gives him an amused look, he sighs. “Yes. Why?”

“We could work on it together. I’m good at solving problems.”

Once more today, Loki finds himself speechless. It seems to be a reoccurring issue.

 _Why are you still here?_ The question is on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t ask. Instead he nods, and Anthony grins brightly and takes his arm again to drag him back to the palace.

This time, he doesn’t take his hand away again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Rabentochter and Jaxonkreide, because they helped me figure out some things about this chapter, and also to Raven_Ehtar, because they approved of said things.❤

Tony sits at his desk, his head resting in his hand, and watches as Groot reappears from between the shelves. He carries something almost as big as himself, something that's definitely not what he was meant to bring. He has to tug at Loki's coat to get his attention. Loki immediately sets down down his quill and lifts Groot up onto the desk, where the twig offers him the object he has brought.

It's silent for a moment, then Loki asks, perplexed, “Where did you even _find_ this?” Groot, of course, doesn't answer, and Loki sighs quietly. “This is a shoe, Groot, not a book. Don't look at me like that, I know that you know what a book is. Would you like to see the cover again?”

Groot drops the shoe and nods, so Loki flicks his wrist and conures up a picture of a small, thin book. He lets Groot study the cover, then the backside of the book, and when Groot gives an determined nod, Loki makes the image disappear again. Groot jumps off the table and disappears between the high book shelves again. Loki shakes his head and takes the shoe to examine it.

“It’s Midgardian”, Tony says.

Loki doesn’t seem surprised to hear him speak up, he just lifts his head and smiles. “Is it?”

“They call it ‘flip-flop’.”

Loki raises his brows, then huffs. “Mortals come up with the strangest things”, he murmurs and sets the shoe back down again. “Also, why would they wear something as hideous as this?”

“Uh. Because it’s comfortable or something? I don’t know.” Tony grins. “You could wear it and find out.”

“I could also not do that, thank you.”

Tony laughs at Loki’s wrinkled nose - the God of Death really is a little snob, who would have guessed? - and immediately Loki’s expression smoothes out again, not so secretly delighted because he made Tony laugh.

Things like that are so easy to spot, now that Tony’s really looking out for them.

Loki makes the shoe vanish with a quick gesture of his hand, but he doesn’t turn back to his studies yet. Instead, he rests his arms on his desk and looks at Tony, smiling again. He smiles more often, by now. Tony adores it.

“You like Midgardian things”, Loki says.

“I like Midgard.”

“How so?”

Tony shrugs, and he knows his grin is fading. “I don’t know, I just - I like how fast everything is. So many changes within a single _year_ , that’s… awesome.”

“There’s no magic”, Loki replies, thoughtful.

That’s something Tony adores, too. Because Tony can tell Loki something - anything - and Loki will actually listen, and then he will think about it and won’t judge if he has a different opinion on something. He’s interested in what’s going on in Tony’s head, but he doesn’t act like he’s entitled to knowing or even _changing_ what’s going on in there. It makes Tony want to talk to Loki for hours on end.

“There is, actually”, he says, hoping to start another long discussion about magic. “A few have figured it out, and more will in the next centuries.”

“I didn’t know that”, Loki says, sounding _insulted_ by himself because he didn’t know of Midgardian magic, so Tony laughs and tells him all about those monks that are starting to get the hang of it.

This is how they spend a good few hours every day. It started with them working on Loki’s clones, which are actually _perfect_ and far too impressive by now. Loki set up a second desk in his library, with a big, comfortable chair Tony could actually fall asleep in. Every day, there’s another book or tome Loki thinks could interest Tony lying on this desk, and sometimes there are even gifts - chocolate, one time, because Loki figured out that Tony loves chocolate one time at dinner, and then a fine quill made of a long peacock feather, because the other day Tony made fun of the fact that Loki is still _using_ quills. One afternoon, Tony came in the library to find a patch of soil close to his desk; _for your child_ , Loki said, trying to act dismissive. Tony laughed, sat down next to the to-be flowerbed, and made a few plants grow there. Loki watched, awestruck, but he seems to know better than to harp about Tony’s affinity for flowers and such. He’s obviously interested in that too, yes, but, well. It’s not a safe topic.

Tony has been here for five months now, and it’s… good. Yes. He enjoys Loki’s company; it’s almost as if he can’t spend _enough_ time with him. He likes bantering with Loki, and he likes being the reason Loki is smiling more. He likes _Loki_ , full stop. And that he is drop-dead gorgeous doesn’t hurt, either. Tony catches himself staring at Loki a lot. He stares at Loki when the older god is reading and chewing on his lower lip in thought, or when he runs a hand through his black hair to brush some wayward locks out of his face, and when Loki grins one of his mischief-colored grins, sharp and dangerous enough to make Tony’s toes curl, in a good way. There’s also the fact that Loki is _radiant_ with power, with a magic so strong and alive that the smallest display of it can take Tony’s breath away.

Loki is dark and sweet, and Tony’s falling for him.

But that’s okay, because he is rather sure by now that Loki already _has_ fallen for him. And that might just be the best thing about it all. It makes Tony grin like a idiot every time he thinks about it, so he tries not to think about it when he’s around Loki.

So, yes, it’s good, Tony’s - there’s no point in denying it, Tony is _happy._ And he thinks Loki might be, too, even though he’s still oozing nervousness and a certain kind of darkness, sometimes. Loki’s mood can change in the blink of an eye, and he can be all knives and sharp edges when he feels threatened or insecure. Tony knows that, and he’s getting better at handling it. There were a few times things between them blew up, either because Loki got on Tony’s nerves in a moment Tony didn’t want to do anything but work or think about working, or because Tony said something without thinking about it first and actually managed to hurt Loki’s well-guarded feelings.

The thing is, there are a lot of unspoken things between them. There’s the whole disaster that got Tony here in the first place, his forest and the fact that Loki lured him here, and there are his mother and Odin who won’t leave them alone, even though they can’t force Tony leave. Tony gets a bit irritated when he thinks too much about how he isn’t actually _able_ to leave, since he basically put his life into the God of Death’s hands by eating something Loki offered him. He also knows that spring is suffering because of his absence, that his garden in Vanaheim is withering and dying just like his forest, and that the worlds he should be taking care of are experience long winters and colorless summers.

So all of these are problems that will very likely bite them in their asses at some point, but until that happens, well. Tony’s going to enjoy this as long as he can.

Their conversation about Midgard is interrupted when Groot comes back, this time with a honest to the Norns plushie that has an odd resemblance to Fenrir. Loki stares at it for a second, then looks at Tony.

“He is hoaxing me, isn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him”, Tony says. Groot likes to procure obscure objects from obscure place,  and he also likes to prank people. Tony’s been a victim of that often enough.

Loki returns his attention to Groot. “Alright”, he says, giving the sapling a pointed look. “I give you one last chance.”

Groot doesn't need any more encouraging, he jumps off the desk and runs off again. A few minutes later, he comes back with a book, and Loki’s face lights up - until he sees the cover, then he heaves another world-weary sigh and looks at the little tree.

“Can you read?”, he asks, mildly exasperated, and when Groot gives no response, Loki turns to Tony again. “Can he read?”

“He can’t even speak”, Tony says.

Loki narrows his eyes at Groot. “He can read”, he decides. “And I am now very sure your child is hoaxing me.”

“Why? What’s this book about?”

“Nothing of importance”, Loki says, a little bit too quickly, and the book Groot has brought disappears again. Groot makes a disappointed noise, but is silenced by the pointed look Loki gives him. The god stands up and goes to find his book himself, taking care not to look at Tony. Tony is distracted by the view of Loki’s backside for a moment, then he raises a brow at his creation. But Groot is the epitome of innocence, so Tony decides to let the whole thing go.

When Loki returns, Tony asks him a question about the scroll the older god gave him this morning, and Loki abandons his studies to join Tony at his desk. He’s a good teacher, and his eyes light up in the loveliest way when he speaks about something that really interests him.

Tony could listen to him for centuries.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

“So, what exactly are we doing today?”

“You will see soon enough.”

“You're not going to kill me, are you?”

Loki looks at Anthony maybe a little bit too sharply, because the young god immediately backpedals.

“That was a joke, Lokes, I know you -”

“I know”, Loki interrupts and pretends to look at one of the souls passing them by, trying to hide his smile.

 _Lokes._ That name made a first appearance a few weeks ago and so far it doesn't seem like Anthony plans to stop using it any time soon. It's ridiculous and Loki doesn't _want_ to like it, but he can't help but think that nicknames like that suggest a certain… fondness, maybe. That thought always makes him smile.

“Okay”, Anthony says. “But seriously, where are we going?”

“Helheim, obviously.”

“Obviously. But -”

“Are you not able to wait a _few_ more minutes?”

Anthony actually seems to think about that for a moment, than he shakes his head. “Nope. I'm not good at patience.”

Loki gives his companion a dry look. “Oh, really.”

Anthony's grin is lopsided and lovely. Surprisingly, he doesn't ask any more questions.. He seems a bit distracted by the souls of the dead that have started following them - or rather, Anthony - again, so maybe that is one of the reasons he actually stays silent the rest of the way.

Loki leads Anthony to a particular spot in the city of Helheim. It just looks like every other corner, but it _feels_ different, and judging by Anthony's frown, that has not escaped his notice.

“This is weird”, he says, apparently a bit uncomfortable.

“It's not dangerous”, Loki assures. “There are hundreds of layers resting on top of and in between each other in this spot. Feeling a little disoriented is perfectly normal.”

“Oh, you're - you're talking about those spheres we spoke about that one time, right?” Anthony has started to beam, his eyes glinting in that way they only do when he is learning something new.

“Yes”, Loki says, nodding, then walks over to one of the buildings lining the street. “Come here.”

Anthony follows him without hesitation, but when he comes to a halt right next to Loki, he suddenly looks a bit pale. Loki frowns at that.

“Anthony?”

“Fine”, Anthony replies, and it sounds firm enough that Loki believes him. “Just a bit dizzy. It feels like the ground and… everything solid is gone.”

“The different layers are blurring into each other”, Loki explains. “That can make it difficult to distinguish between them and our reality.”

“Right”, Anthony says, a bit dryly, and Loki smiles.

“Would you give me your hand?”

Anthony blinks at him. For a moment Loki is sure that he will decline, that he doesn't trust Loki enough, but then Anthony smiles a little and holds out his hand, raising his brows as if to say, _And now?_  

Loki smirks and carefully wraps his fingers around Anthony's wrist. His skin is warm, warmer than Loki's. Warmer than everything in Helheim, probably. Loki can feel Anthony's pulse beneath his fingertips, and somehow that makes his own heartbeat quicken. He tries to ignore that and leads Anthony's hand to the wall they are standing right next to. It's not difficult to pull both of their hands through the spheres; the veil between them is indeed very thin.

Loki can see Anthony's eyes widen when his hand touches cold, solid stone. He evidently expected there to be nothing like air and fume, because that is what all the buildings in the capital of Helheim are made of, out of the perspective or somebody alive, at least.

“What you can feel”, Loki says quietly, “is a part of the latest spheres I created.”

Anthony stares at the wall he cannot see, because it's not really _there_ , not for them. Loki is the only one alive who can see every single sphere of Helheim, because he created most of them.

“I thought we had to astral project for this”, Anthony says after a long while, apparently still trying to make sense of this. Loki finds it incredibly amusing, and he always enjoys watching Anthony as he learns. It's a magnificent sight.

“If you want to see more than this, yes.” Loki gently leads Anthony's hand back into their version of reality, and then mourns the loss of warmth when he has to pull his own hand back. “You cannot physically step into one of the other spheres. Don't try, please, because even I might not be able to get you out of it alive.”

“So no actual sphere hopping, got it.” Anthony absently rubs his left wrist like he often does when he thinks, then smiles widely at Loki. “But astral projection works, right? Can we do that?”

“I would have to lead you”, Loki reminds the younger god hesitantly, but Anthony just nods, apparently not particularly bothered.

“Yes, that's fine.”

“Well, then I see no reason why we shouldn't try.”

Anthony's grin broadens even more, and Loki can't help but answer with a smile of his own. He doesn't have to hide it, this time, because Anthony has already closed his eyes. His grin fades as he concentrates, and Loki feels panic rush through himself because -

“Anthony, your body, you -”

But Anthony's body already falls over, or it would have fallen over if it weren't for Loki, who surges forward to catch it.

“Oh”, Anthony's voice says, sounding embarrassed. “Uh, I probably should have… thought about that.”

“Yes, that would have been appreciated”, Loki grits out as he carefully lays Anthony's body down on the floor. He doesn'r want to touch it more than necessary as long as Anthony is not _in_ there. Then he looks at Anthony's astral body, which is hovering in the air a few inches above the ground. It's not firm, but firmer than Loki's was when he was Anthony's age, and the fact that Anthony can even speak to Loki like this speaks of his talent. It's impressive, and then there is also the red-golden glow that flickers through Anthony's form every few seconds, like a slowed down heartbeat. Loki can see those colors at the edges of Anthony's being, glinting and pulsating like the floating letters Loki saw in Anthony's workshop. All in all, it's a beautiful sight, but it still makes Loki uncomfortable. He prefers it when Anthony is in his body, safe, and not hovering around between hundreds of parallel worlds he could very easily get lost in.

“Should I, uhm, get back in there?”

“Yes, please”, Loki says with a sigh. A few seconds later Anthony opens his eyes and props himself up on his elbows, aiming an apologetic grin at Loki.

“Sorry”, he says. “You have good reflexes, though.”

Loki rolls his eyes and gets on his knees behind Anthony, who sits up and looks back at him, confused.

Loki smirks at him because he is too nervous for a real smile, and asks, “Shall we try this again?”

“Yes, but how -”

“What we are going to do”, Loki speaks over him, then waits until Anthony actually falls silent, “is the following: You will astral project, and I will do the rest. I'll lead you into the last sphere I created and make sure that you will stay there, and after a few minutes I will lead you out of it again.The only thing you have to do is follow the… pull. Please don’t try to leave on your own.”

“Okay.”

“I will still be able to talk to you, and if you start to feel unwell or want to return for any other reason, you are to tell me immediately.”

“And how do I do that, if I'm in one of those spheres?”

“I can hear everything that is spoken in every sphere, obviously.”

“Obviously”, Anthony echoes again, smiling. He shifts until he sits cross-legged on the ground, his back straight, then says, “Alright, then. Er, my body -”

“I will keep an eye on it”, Loki says and waits for Anthony’s assenting nod. Loki hesitates, but after a moment asks, “May I touch you? Just -”, he lets his hands hover over Anthony’s shoulders, “here. It would make it easier to -”

“Yes, sure”, Anthony already agrees, not even hesitating.

Loki isn’t sure if he can handle all this trust, and he is very sure that he doesn’t _deserve_ it, even though he would never do anything to hurt Anthony. Not deliberately, anyway. He rests his hands on Anthony’s shoulders, keeping the touch light. Anthony doesn’t seem to mind; actually, he is _still_ smiling.

“Whenever you are ready, then”, Loki tells him quietly.

Anthony doesn’t take longer than two seconds. It’s easy for Loki to lead the younger god’s astral body into the right direction, and Anthony lets himself be guided without any sign of reluctance. Loki would like to join him, but he doesn’t want to leave Anthony’s body unguarded, and additionally Anthony is probably interested in seeing somebody alive from the perspective of the dead. So Loki just takes care that Anthony ends up in the right sphere and that his body doesn’t topple over while he is gone. When Anthony has arrived in the _actual_ world of the dead - or rather in one of them - Loki cannot resist leaning forward to whisper into Anthony’s ear, even though that really isn’t needed for Anthony to hear and understand him.

“The wall you touched earlier should be right next to you. A few souls are living in this house; a family. The front door is just a few steps to your right. Can you see it?”

He listens carefully, and a few seconds later he can hear Anthony’s reply. It sounds a little muffled and it’s a bit strenuous to block out all the other noises coming out of the sphere Anthony is in, but Loki can still understand him rather well.

“Yes”, Anthony says, and then, “Holy fucking shit.”

“Eloquent”, Loki replies.

“Shut up. There are actual _people_ here, not shadows. Can I talk to them?”

“They do not listen to the living. Try not to disturb them, please.”

Anthony stays in the sphere for almost fifteen minutes, wandering around aimlessly and trying not to get in the way of any souls. Curiously, he is completely ignored by the dead as long as he lingers in their own world, even though they are practically clinging to his heels whenever he walks the streets of Helheim. Loki can’t make sense of that himself and decides to read up on it later; somehow he has not gotten to doing that so far.

He is about to call Anthony back when it turns out that he doesn’t need to, because the body in front of him suddenly comes to life again. Anthony turns around to him, his grin so wide and bright that it is almost blinding, and Loki lets go of the younger god’s shoulders in shock.

“That was _awesome_ ”, Anthony tells him excitedly and already begins rambling about everything he saw, but Loki interrupts him before he can say more than a few words.

“I _told you_ not to try to leave on your own! What would you have done if you had gotten lost? What would _I_ have done?”

Anthony blinks, looking confused, and Loki huffs and stands up because he suddenly feels ridiculous kneeling on the ground like that. Anthony jumps up as well, already apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I know you said not to, but it was easy! Everything’s fine, I didn’t get lost.”

“But you could have”, Loki snaps. “You had no idea what you were doing, you just _thought_ it’s easy and -”

“It _is_ easy!” Anthony’s voice is getting sharper, too. “And I know what I’m doing, okay? I’m not some kind of novice that doesn’t know how to handle magic.”

Loki glowers at him for a moment, but he has to admit that Anthony is right. He is an extraordinarily good mage for somebody as young as he is; Loki knows many much older mages Anthony easily outshines. But he is so _young_ , and maybe a little prone to overestimating himself, and Loki cannot stand the thought of losing him to death.

“I know”, he still says, because he does know, and he can’t really stand the thought of Anthony being mad at him, either. Not anymore. (He has gotten too used to Anthony smiling at him, wanting to spend time with him. A mistake. Anthony can’t stay forever.)

“Then don’t treat me like that”, Anthony says, sounding calmer now himself. “Okay? I’m fine, I really am.”

Loki huffs again, then looks at the younger god with furrowed brows. “Do not do that again.”

“I won’t.” Anthony grin returns, just a little hesitantly. “Promise. But it _was_ easy, really. I just had to come back to you. I could see you.”

Loki takes notice at that. “You could?”

“Yes. You have to try - I bet you’ll be able to see me, too, and that’s what we wanted to try in the first place, right?”

So, Loki doesn’t actually feel like experimenting anymore, but it doesn’t need a lot of urging from Anthony to get him to agree. And he doesn’t regret it, later when he stands in the version of Helheim that is inhabited by the souls of the dead and can still see Anthony standing there. He can even see the dead standing around him, whispering to each other and staring at him with huge eyes. Loki can understand why they stare at Anthony like that, he does it himself.

Anthony is light itself, and he shines so brightly that the dead are drawn to him like moths to a flame.

  


⸪ ⸫ ⸪

  


A few days later, Loki isn’t sitting at the table when Tony arrives. It makes Tony stop in the doorway, uncertain. He isn't particularly late or early, actually this is the usual time they have breakfast together every day - _every day_ , since the first they ate together. And every single time Loki had already been waiting for him when Tony came into the room, ready to pour him a cup of coffee and himself a cup of tea. Now, there is nobody sitting at the table, even though it's already set.

Tony hesitates, but eventually sits down at his usual place. Groot has already jumped off his shoulder to examine the room, but quickly comes back to the table since there's nothing new to examine. Everything looks just like it did yesterday; furniture made of light-toned wood, the seats covered with blue fabric, a color that finds its echo in the walls and decoration. When Tony listens carefully, he can hear the rushing of waves in the distance, and he is sure that there is water behind the dunes he can see through the window.

He was impressed by that yesterday, though. Today he doesn’t even really notice it, because Loki isn’t here and that can hardly be a good sign.

Servants bring him breakfast, but he isn’t particularly hungry anymore. He waits for the door to open, for Loki to come in and apologize for being late - he has _never_ been late before, not one single time -, but Loki doesn’t come.

When the door does open after a long while, the man who steps into the room is not Loki - even though Tony thinks he is, at first, because some kind of resemblance is certainly there. But the man looks too young, just a few hundred years older than Tony himself, and his skin isn’t pale enough. He's also a bit too broad; Loki is slimmer. The shorter cut hair is just as pitch black, though, and the eyes are exactly the same shade of green.

“Hello”, the man says kindly and sits down across from Tony. He smirks a little, probably at Tony’s clueless expression, and starts to examine the food on the table. “Father asked me to tell you that he is tied up with business this morning. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.” He looks at Tony’s empty plate, frowning, and begins to shovel food onto it. “He also asked me to make sure you eat, so please eat up quickly. I really don’t want to stay longer in the palace than necessary.”

Tony stares at the other man - _god_ , he’s definitely a god, too; Tony can sense his magic. He sensed it once before, even, and the rumble of the not-stranger’s voice is familiar, too, just like the way he says _father._

“Fenrir?”, Tony asks, feeling kind of ridiculous.

“Yes, hello”, Fenrir says, his tone pleasant but a bit absent. He is busy wrinkling his nose about the food; apparently the ham is not to his tastes.

“You're a shapeshifter, too.”

“Obviously.”

Tony suppresses a sigh. Definitely his father's son, yes. _Obviously_ is one of Loki's favorite words.

“I've never seen you around here before.”

“I avoid coming here, usually. The dead are afraid of me. But I had to bring a guest to Father and discuss some things with him, do I didn't have another choice.” Fenrir grins with teeth that seem a little bit too sharp. “He got a little worked up over missing breakfast with you, so I offered to go and talk to you.”

Tony frowns. “A guest?”

“Yes. It has nothing to do with you, don't worry.”

“Is Loki okay?”

Fenrir's grin turns into a smirk. His eyes are glinting. “Oh, more than.” He seems to think it over, then, because a moment later he adds, “Well, he might be a little annoyed at the moment, but that's nothing a smile from you couldn't fix, eh?”

Tony feels a blush creeping up his neck, all the way up to the tips of his ears. He isn't even the type to blush, usually, but that's apparently different when people hint at his and Loki's… thing. Just great, really.

“Please, don't tell me you didn't know. Father goes on and on about how smart you are.”

“Really?”, is all Tony can say to that.

“Really. I would find the whole thing adorable, but it is still my Father we are speaking about, and that makes it a bit weird.” Fenrir cocks his head to one side. “Or even more adorable, maybe. I haven't yet made up my mind.”

“So he… I mean, he really…”

Another smirk, another knowing look. “Yes, he really. And you too, I hope?”

The blush does _not_ deepen, thank you very much. “Yeah?”

Now, the look in Fenrir’s Loki-green eyes is almost soft, just like his smile. He holds out his hand over the table. “Welcome to the family, then.”

“Uh - I mean, we're not - not _yet_ , maybe, I don't even know if we -”

“Still”, Fenrir insists, his hand staying were it is, and after a moment Tony gives in and shakes it.

“Thank you”, he says hesitantly.

“If you tell him we talked about this, I will bite off your hand”, Fenrir tells him kindly.

Right.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

Not much later, Tony and Fenrir are making their way through the palace. It didn't need much convincing to get Fenrir to bring him to the throne room, even though he still doesn't want to tell Tony more about the _guest._ He did say that Loki specifically told him _not_ to bring Tony to the throne room as long as whatever problem there is isn't sorted out, but it seems like Fenrir is rather indifferent to that. To most things, actually - he doesn't seem to care a lot about the dead, even when they flinch out of the way when they pass them in the corridors, and he doesn't seem concerned by the problem Loki is having, either. The only reason he is remotely interested in Tony is probably the fact that he and Loki have a _thing_ , otherwise Fenrir wouldn't spare him a second glance, Tony thinks. But still, all in all Fenrir isn't that bad. He is funny, even, though in a slightly weird way, and it's obvious that he cares about his father.

“Can I ask you something?”, Tony asks as they walk down the stairs that lead to the throne room.

“Of course.”

“Where's your mother?”

“Oh”, Fenrir says, shrugging. “I'm not sure. She might be dead. Father raised us.”

Tony blinks at that. “ _Us_?”

The other god nods. “I have two siblings. Jormungandr spends most of his time in Midgard, though, and Hel is constantly traveling through the Nine Realms.”

“Hel?”, Tony echoes. “Is that, uh - some kind of weird coincidence?”

“No. Father named this realm after her when he became king. It was nameless before.” Fenrir looks at Anthony and seems to notice his confused expression, because he continues, “My sister is the Goddess of Death. She leads the souls here when the Norns decide it is time, Father takes care of them as soon as they are here.”

“Oh. I didn't… know that.”

“Nobody does”, Fenrir says. “Father always took care that everybody thinks he is the only God of Death. It's easier for Hel, that way.”

Tony is temporarily stunned speechless by that. He remembers how angry Loki got the one time they spoke about all this death business. Tony didn't dare to ask more questions about it, because he didn't want to insult or hurt Loki again, but now he wonders if Loki would tell him more about his daughter, and his other son. It's kind of weird that Loki never mentioned them; he speaks about Fenrir rather often.

Tony would like to ask Fenrir a few other questions, but he gets distracted by Loki's voice, which gets louder the closer they get to the throne room.

“... can wait here for centuries if you wish, I already told you that I cannot help you. That won't change, no matter what you offer me. If you stay here, you will die, just like her. Go, that would be better for the both of you.”

“I'm not leaving without her”, another voice replies sharply, and it sounds like this isn't the first time she says these words.

“I cannot help you”, Loki repeats. _He_ sounds like he had a very long day and is very tired of everything. Which is kind of worrying, because it's not even ten am.

It doesn't look line the woman is in any way inclined to give up. “You are the God of Death! If there's anyone who can bring her back, it's you.”

Tony and Fenrir step into the throne room, just in time to hear Loki's sigh. “That is not how it works.”

This is the first time Tony sees Loki sitting on his throne. It's… impressive; that's one way to say it. Loki looks even taller, somehow, and he is annoyed enough that his magic flickers in the air surrounding him. He really looks like the king of death like this, and Tony has the feeling he shouldn't _like_ that. He's pretty sure he would have found it disturbing just a few months ago.

In front of Loki's throne, in what she probably thinks is safe distance, stands a woman. A mortal woman, with red hair and desperate eyes.

Tony has never seen a human before, at least not like this. He has never been in the same room as one. He eyes her with interest, but Loki is much more important in the moment, especially because he has spotted Tony and Fenrir by now. He sits up on his throne, his shoulders tense, and stares at Tony with a look similar to shock on his face.

“Anthony”, he says, his voice quiet but still perfectly audible.

Suddenly, Tony thinks that coming here might not have been the best idea he ever had. He doesn't want to disturb Loki or interfere with his work, really, but well, he was worried.

“Morning”, he says hesitantly, and is about to apologize when the woman, who is looking at him too by now, speaks up again.

“You are - Anthony? As in, the God of -?”

“Spring, yes”, Anthony cuts her off with a sigh. “Hello.”

The woman presses her lips together. Her hands are clasped in front of her, and she looks very, very lost in the throne room of Helheim. But she is still here apparently doesn't want to leave. Tony doesn't underestimate her; he knows that it is nearly impossible for a human to reach Helheim unharmed. Because the woman is also _alive_ , no matter how pale and scared she is. There is an air of determination around her that tells Tony that she is a force to be reckoned with, even as a mortal, and she won't give up until she gets what she came here for.

“Is he holding you captive, too?”, she asks, and very nearly ruins the first good impression she made with that. The hall immediately gets darker, the shadows creeping towards her like snakes, ready to bite.

Tony remembers that Loki can be very dangerous if he wants to, and hurries to step in.

“Loki is holding nobody captive”, he tells the woman firmly, his voice resonating too loudly in the ceiling-less room. “I'm his friend.”

She mouths the word _friend_ as if she can't quite believe it, but she quickly figures out that the best thing she can do is let this particular topic go. “You have to help me", she whispers instead, walking over to Anthony with quick steps. She is a bit taller than him and quite beautiful, now that he sees her from up close.

“I'm sure Loki -”, Tony begins, but the woman shakes her head.

“He won't do anything”, she positively snaps, then looks back at Loki, her eyes burning. “He let me enter his realm and walk through a whole _labyrinth_ of death, only to send me away again now that I -”

“I did not let you enter”, Loki interrupts sharply. He stands up and comes down the few stairs that lead up to his throne. He easily towers over both the woman and Tony, but his glare is reserved solely for her. “You sneaked past my son and he brought you to me to tell me _how_ you did it, which you are yet to do.”

“I won't tell you  until you _give her back_!”

“ _Mortals”,_ Loki snarls at her. “You think that your tiny world revolves around you, yes? What do you expect me to do? I cannot bend the laws of the universe just because you _wish_ it. I can't give her back.”

“I'm sorry”, Tony chimes in again, trying to keep his tone light. “But I'm still here and I have no idea what's going on. Give who back?”

“My girlfriend”, the woman says, looking at Tony again. “She is stuck here, and I will take her back home.”

Loki scoffs. “She is not _stuck_ here. She is dead.”

The woman ignores him. She actually ignores the God of Death, the king of this entire realm, and doesn't even blink an eye. “She died too early”, she tells Tony, her voice trembling. “I don't want her to be gone.”

Loki huffs, and Tony can actually see his point. It _is_ audacious, coming here and demanding to make somebody alive again. A _human_ , even. Their lives are so short that it barely seems worth the trouble. But there are tears in the woman's eyes and she means it, she has come a long way to stand here and _plead_ for her girlfriend's life, and Tony just - he can't just shrug that off.

“What's your name?”, he asks softly, and for a moment the woman looks at him as if she thinks he has lost his mind.

“Pepper”, she says then, very quietly.

Strange name, but okay. “Pepper”, Tony repeats, nodding. “And your girlfriend?”

“Natasha.”

“How long have you been together?”

“Anthony”, Loki says, sounding impatient and, yes, definitely annoyed. Tony shushes him, and - wonder of freaking wonders - Loki actually stays silent. For now, anyway.

Tony gives Pepper an encouraging look, and she answers, “One and a half years.”

Which is basically _nothing_. Even by mortal standards, Tony thinks. He thinks carefully about his next words before he says them. “So, uh, I don't want to be tactless or anything, but… you do realize that that is a very short time, yes? You went through all this to bring somebody back who…”

“Might not even want to spend the rest of her life with me?”, Pepper finishes the sentence, glaring at him. “Is that what you mean?”

“Well, I -”

“I don't care”, she says firmly. “I don't care if we don't stay together forever, I don't care if she doesn't - want me, or anything. I just don't want to her to be gone.” The hard look in her eyes disappears. “I don't want her to be gone”, she repeats quietly, and the broken sound of her voice has Tony make a decision.

“Loki”, he says, turning to the god. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

Loki stares at him, but then he jerks his head to the side and walks off, back to his throne. Tony smiles at Pepper and follows Loki, who is already glowering at him when Tony comes to stand in front of him.

“I can't”, he tells Tony before he can even say anything. “I know what you want, but I _cannot do it._ ”

“Why not?”

“Because”, Loki says, and it sounds like he has to try very hard to stay calm, “bringing people back to life is _beyond my power_. And even if it wasn't, it is against the rules, and I would not do it.”

That actually surprises Tony. “Since when do you care about rules?”

“There are some rules that are there for a _reason_ and should be respected. This is one of them.” Loki looks back at Pepper, his mouth twisting into a snarl. “ _Mortals_ ”, he hisses again. “How long would she have, that girl, until she would have to come back here again? Fifty years, sixty?”

“What does that matter?”, Tony asks, and Loki turns to glare at him again. Tony's getting a bit annoyed now, himself; Loki's attitude can be a bit irritating  now and then. “She loves her, Loki. She came all this way to -”

“She is not the only one who has lost a loved one to death”, Loki snaps. “Can you imagine what would happen if people heard about this? They would beat a damned path to my door, I wouldn't have a single calm minute.”

“Then we'll have them promise not to tell anybody”, Tony says, shrugging.

“Have you not heard what I said? I _cannot do it_.”

“I can.”

Loki stares at him for a long time. “What?”, he asks then.

“I can”, Tony says again. “I can do it. The only thing you have to do is lead her out of her sphere. I'll do the rest.”

Loki continues staring at him, his expression more uncomprehending than Tony has ever seen it. “How?”

What? “What do you mean, how?”

“You claim that you can _bring somebody back to life_?”

“Yes”, Tony says slowly. Of course he claims that. Of course he _can do_ that, who does Loki think he is talking to?

Loki is still gaping, and Tony sighs.

“Look”, he says. “Just trust me with this, okay? I feel like she deserves this. I feel like we should help. You can blame it on me if you want.”

“No”, Loki says, and Tony frowns.

“What, no?”

“I will not let you experiment around with somebody's soul, especially not after the sheer _impertinence_ of this -”

“Could you stop being annoyed by her freaking manners?” Tony realizes that he sounds a little bit too harsh, but he can't help it. “Can you just - can you _imagine_ , just for a second, what it's like to be in her position? She came all this goddamn way, she's scared and angry and _grieving_ because she lost somebody she loved, and she wants her back.”

“That is not my -”

“But what if it were?”, Tony cuts the other god off. “If you lost somebody like that, what would you do? Would you be _polite_ , would you give up, would you wait years and years and years and _hope_ you might be allowed to see them again?”

Loki just looks at him.

“What if - what if there were the _slightest_ chance you could get them back? If you loved somebody like that, and if you lost them, what would you do?”

Loki clenches his jaw and averts his eyes. It doesn't take long until he closes them, his face slackening. Tony waits and waits and waits, seconds are turning into minutes, but eventually Loki makes a decision, too.

“Anything”, he says. “I would do anything to get them back.”

Tony lets out a rush of breath. “Then let's make a deal with her.”

Loki looks at him again, his expression unreadable, and nods.

The rest is a surprisingly quiet and easy affair. They do make a deal with Pepper and then Loki goes to fetch Natasha's soul, which is less a _going_ that just standing around and concentrating for a second. Pepper listens to Tony's instructions very carefully, and a few hours later Fenrir stands on his bridge and watches as she and Natasha walk out of Helheim. Pepper hasn't glanced back over her shoulder a single time.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

In the late evening, Loki stands in front of the door that leads to Anthony's workshop. He feels disoriented and scared and lost, and the hours he just spent trying to clear his head didn't help. There is only one thing he can do, and that is talk to Anthony. For the very first time, Loki does not want to do that.

He still knocks.

Anthony invites him in just a few seconds later. Loki opens the door and stays where he is. Tony's creations come to greet him like they did the first and as yet only time he was in Tony's workshop, but Loki doesn't even manage to look at them properly. His eyes are already fixed on Anthony, who has just turned around on his chair to look at Loki. His grin fades as soon as he sees Loki's expression. He even stands up and makes a few steps towards him, only to stop with a confused and concerned look on his face.

“Loki?”

Loki swallows and looks away. Red and golden letters are floating in the air again. It's just as beautiful as he remembers. Groot is sitting on one of the tables and plays with some tools he probably shouldn't be playing with, and Loki stares at the tree. Wonders how he has never thought about this before, how it has never even crossed his mind that Groot being as alive as he is is… odd. It shouldn't be possible.

“What are you the god of, Anthony?”, he asks eventually, and hates how flat it sounds.

He dreads the answer more than anything else.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Shit is going to hit the fan in the next chapter. (But there'll be nice things happening, too, so hang in there.)
> 
> Also, any guesses on what book little Groot brought Loki? :p


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! It'll be 11 chapters, because I added too much stuff while editing. Oops. This chapter also ended up being a bit short, but I hope you enjoy it, anyway!
> 
> Also, thank you so much for all your comments and kudos and just, everything. You're unbelievably kind and I love you.♡♡♡

It isn't often that Fenrir sees his father's well-guarded composure crack. Loki has always been careful to remain calm and collected in front of his children. Actually, Fenrir only remembers one time his father lost his poise; that moment when he came out of Asgard's throne room and told Fenrir and his siblings - Jor was still very small, back then, and Hela was just a baby - that they had to leave. He was so angry that his magic was spraying torrid sparks that burned holes into his clothes, which only stopped when he took little Hela into his arms and led them out of Asgard, and into Helheim.

That's what Fenrir thinks about when he finally finds his father this evening, after almost two hours of looking for him. He's cowering on the floor in the corridor that leads to his godling's rooms, his legs drawn up against his chest and one hand covering his mouth. His eyes are wide-eyed and panicked, and Fenrir has the very urgent feeling that he should not be here to witness this, because Loki certainly wouldn't want him to. But well, Fenrir _is_ here and he has to talk to his father, and they don't really have the time for emotional breakdowns.

He has to push through at least twenty wards to get through to Loki, which explains why it took Fenrir so long to find him. The wards aren’t meant to protect Loki, though, and Fenrir needs a few seconds to figure out _what_ they are meant for - he can hear muffled, but still rather angry shouting out of Anthony’s corridor, and sense the echo of the young god’s magic as he tries to tear Loki’s wards apart.

Maybe that is what worries Fenrir the most.

“You locked him up?”, is the first thing he asks his father, and Loki looks up as if he only just noticed him.

“I need to take care of some things”, Loki says, and it sounds far too calm, too even. “I couldn’t have him interfering.”

Fenrir would like to comment on the fact that Anthony _might_ despise Loki for that, but he holds his tongue, because Loki doesn't exactly look like he properly thought things through.

“Are the people trying to cross my bridge one of those things?”, Fenrir asks. “Because that problem really needs to be taken care of.”

His father's face whitens even more. “People?”

Oh dear. “Yes, people. Uncle Thor. That mortal woman and her wife. Maria Carbonell. And Odin keeps trying to break your wards. I can't keep them out forever.”

Loki stares at him, and stares at him, and stares at him, and Fenrir starts to get _scared._

“Father?”

“I shouldn't have let him do it”, Loki says quietly, still staring.

“No”, Fenrir agrees hesitantly. “But you did and now they're here to come at you, so we have to -”

“They are not here to come at _me_ ”, Loki interrupts. The dazed look disappears from his eyes and gets replaced by a grim determination that worries Fenrir even more. He watches as his father gets up from the floor and looks back in the direction where Anthony is still calling his name.

“And what are you planning to do?”, Fenrir asks.

“I will make them think that they _are_ here to come at me, of course.”

“That's not a plan”, Fenrir says, but Loki is already walking past him. He follows quickly and easily keeps in step. “You want to sacrifice yourself for _him_? That’s-”

“Insane. Yes.”

“He broke one of the _first laws_. If you take the blame for that, Odin will get just the chance he's been waiting for!”

“Well, what is he going to do?”, Loki says; Fenrir catches the glimpse of a sardonic smirk. “Banish me to Helheim?”

“Yes! Yes, that is exactly what he is going to do, and not as the king, but -” Fenrir cuts himself off. Presses his lips together, looks at his father.

Loki has stopped walking and looks back at him; his eyes become softer. “Fen -”

“No", Fenrir interrupts. “You can't do that. I will not let you do that.”

“Anthony could die.”

“ _You_ could die.”

Loki sighs and steps closer to Fenrir again. “If that happens -”

“You can't be -”

“ _If_ that happens”, Loki repeats, his tone calm and firm, “You will be made King of Helheim. You are aware of that, yes?”

Fenrir doesn't know what to say.

“Fenrir.”

“Yes, but -”

“You will protect your sister.” The look in Loki's eyes urgent. “You will get Jor to live here, at least for the first decades, and you will protect _each other._ Yes?”

Fenrir feels a little sick suddenly and he doesn’t trust his voice, but he still manages to nod and say, “Yes.”

Loki hesitates, but then he does something he hasn't done in hundreds of years - he leans forward and kisses Fenrir's forehead. Like he did when Jor started crying because he didn't want to leave Asgard and Fenrir calmed his little brother down. Like he did when he showed Fenrir the river and the bridge. Like he did when Fenrir changed into a wolf and refused to change back.

“I'm sorry I am putting you through this”, his father says quietly, holding his gaze. His hands are still cupping Fenrir’s face.  “I am. But I have to.”

Fenrir blinks at him, and he hates this body of his. He can't hide anything; he's sure that his face shows every single emotion far too clearly.

“Just fall in love with someone _easier_ next time”, he says weakly.

His father's smile is very sad. “There won't be a next time.”

Fenrir doesn't know what to say to that, either, but gladly he doesn't have to say anything, because Loki has already turned on his heels.

“Let Maria Carbonell pass the bridge”, he says over his shoulder. “And bring her to the throne room.”

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

Loki locked him up.

 _Loki_ locked him _up_ . Tony is stuck in his workshop and he can't get out, and he doesn't even know why. He doesn't even care anymore at this point, he just wants to get out of here and yell at Loki more than he's ever been yelled at before, and _then_ , maybe, Tony will stop yelling long enough for Loki to explain what _the fuck_ has gotten into him.

Because Tony really doesn't understand. He doesn't know why Loki seemed so nervous and _afraid_ when he asked about Tony's task, and he doesn't know why Loki turned so pale when Tony gave his answer. What he knows is that Loki left without a single word, that he _ran away_ without looking back at Tony. And Tony stared after him and called after him and ran after him, only to crash into an invisible wall made of Loki's too old and too strong magic.

Loki locked him up.

Tony has been trying to break Loki’s barrier for almost an hour now, and even though he’s sure that he _will_ get out eventually. Every spell can be broken, even very well crafted ones. Besides, Tony has experience with breaking bans like this one. It will just takes him some time. He’s given up calling for Loki, and instead works in silent anger, dismantling Loki’s spell bit for bit.

He doesn’t know why.

Because Loki knew, didn’t he? Everybody knows. It’s common knowledge at this point that Tony is something that shouldn’t even exist, that he has developed powers he’s not supposed to have. Tony can’t believe that Loki _didn’t_ know about that before Tony told him. But it certainly looked like it - it looked as if Loki had suspected, but not known, and as if the confirmation _shattered_ him. It scared him enough to run away and keep Tony from coming after him.

That’s not anything new, not really, but getting that reaction from _Loki_... Yes, that hurts.

See, the thing is - when a god is born, they get at least one task. Tony, in his luck, got three. The Allfather assigned them to him, like he assigns a task to every god that is born. Nobody really knows or cares how, but the Allfather looks at a child and sees what powers sleep in them, and by giving those powers a name, he gives the child a task. Or several.

When Odin looked at Tony, he saw three things.

Springtime.

You know, blooming things and stuff. Sunshine that begins actually _warming_ things instead of just hurting your eyes. The smell of fresh, growing grass and flowers, crisp air, vibrant colors. The promise of summer.

Vegetation.

Again, blooming things. But more connected to the ground, this time - roots that run deep, branches that almost touch the sky. Seeds buried in soft, healthy soil. Moss and meadows, thorns, reeds and seaweed. Flowers that eat living things, and berries filled with poison, and woods made for getting lost.

And life.

No, not in the literal sense. Tony was never, _never_ supposed to be able to give life to things, or people. What Odin saw was something else - a beating heart, a chest heaving with strong, deep breaths, and laughter. Adrenaline, stupid jokes, an almost too sharp mind. The feeling of home, and of being very far away from home, or of never having known home at all. The purest kind of exhilaration, and the cruelest kind of loneliness.

 _Being alive_ , rather than life itself.

That’s Tony’s third task, theoretically. Making life worth living, preferably with blooming things, and occasionally making life horrible. Keeping things in balance.

But, well. Tony doesn’t really know what went wrong. But he remembers showing Dum-E to his parents, the proudest grin on his face, and he remembers their shocked faces and hushed conversations they didn’t want him to listen in on. They went to Odin not long after that, and Odin looked at Tony for a second time and probably thought, _well, shit._ Because somehow - and nobody really knows or cares how - Tony managed to refine his powers, to go from being alive to life itself, and gave life to what was not much more than a bunch of metal.

That’s not a power anybody should have. Life and death are decided upon by the Norns, not by the gods. But there Tony was, still a child, and had done something not even Odin can do. So naturally, everybody freaked out. Odin wanted to take Tony’s powers from him, but Maria and Howard refused to let that happen and, with a little help from Frigga, they got Odin to agree on a different solution. Tony wasn’t allowed to use his powers, and his parents promised that they would take care that he wouldn’t.

It quickly turned out they couldn’t keep Tony in check, though. Not long after Dum-E, he created U, then Butterfingers. His parents freaked out again, but while Howard wanted to go back to Odin, Maria insisted on leaving Asgard and raising Tony in Vanaheim. So they left Asgard and raised Tony in Vanaheim, and made sure that his creations stayed a secret. Maria taught him how to take care of his garden, how to use his powers and fulfill his tasks regarding spring and vegetation.

But it wasn’t enough, that has never been enough for Tony, and somehow that has led him to the God of Death.

There’s some irony in that, he thinks.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

When Tony finally manages to break through Loki’s magic, he immediately makes his way to the other god’s rooms. But Loki isn’t there, so Tony heads for the throne room. He is so angry that every servant he meets flinches out of the way when he passes them, and Groot didn’t even want to come with him in the first place. Tony doesn’t even care.

He finds the throne room empty, but he hears voices coming from an adjoining room on the other side, so he simply follows the sound of Loki’s voice.

“... done with him, believe me. Take him home, I do not care what happens to him as long as I don't have to see him anymore.”

“You made such efforts to keep him here”, another voice answers, “for _months_ , and now you just want to rid yourself of him?”

Tony comes to stand in the doorway and looks into some kind of conference room; noble furniture and a big, rotund table in the middle, with several chairs Tony doubts anybody has ever sat on. He also looks at his mother, who stands there and looks across the table at Loki. Loki looks at Tony when he enters, and _how_ he looks at him reminds Tony of the moment he woke up in Helheim for the very first time - The God of Death is dressed in black from head to toe, which makes him look paler than he really is, and something about the way he looks at Tony is so wrong that it makes Tony’s hair stand on end.

“Ah, there he is”, Loki says, mouth twitching into a cruel smirk. “Managed to break out, did you?”

Tony can't do anything but stare at him. This isn't the Loki he knows - the tone, the smirk, the look in his eyes, it's all wrong. That's not how Loki _is_ , not to Tony, anyway, why is he -

Tony is briefly distracted by his mother who basically throws herself at him, pulling him so close that he can barely breathe. She's crying, her hair smells like strawberries and fresh air and summer breezes, and for a moment Tony wants to bury his face in her dress like he did when he was little. But he can't stop looking at Loki, and he gets angrier and angrier with every second that passes, because Loki doesn't meet his eyes.

“Are you alright?”, Maria asks, cupping his face and making him look at her. Her hands wander down to his shoulders, tug his jacket into place, search for injuries.

“I'm fine”, Tony tells her. Tries not to shout at her, at Loki, at everything. “What’s going on here?”

The question is directed at Loki, but it’s his mother who answers. “You can come back home, darling; it’s over. You don’t have to stay here anymore.”

Tony stares at her and sees that she actually _means_ it - her eyes are wide and worried and at the same time so incredibly relieved that he almost feels bad for everything. Almost. The thing is, he doesn’t have the time to feel guilty, because he’s busy starting to panic.

“What?”, he asks, his tone flat, because he really doesn’t understand what’s going on and Loki still isn’t looking at him properly, but then he suddenly _is_ and -

Those vibrant green eyes Tony has come to like - to _love_ even - are cold and filled with snide, and Tony doesn’t understand.

“You overstayed your welcome, little god”, Loki says. He hasn’t called Tony that in ages, because he knows that Tony doesn’t like it. He _knows_ that.

“I don’t understand”, Tony says, staring at his friend.

And Loki sighs and, just for a second, looks like he’s pitying him. “There is nothing to understand”, he replies, his soft tone nothing but a mockery of his _real_ soft tone. “It’s rather simple, really. You did not actually believe I _wanted_ you here, did you?”

Tony can’t say anything.

“Come”, Maria says quietly. She’s still touching him, but Tony barely realizes. “We can take care of everything else when we are back home. Your father will want to -”

“No”, Tony cuts her off, his voice sharp. He’s glaring at Loki know, and Loki just lifts an eyebrow and seems awfully unimpressed, awfully unbothered, awfully _not himself._ “We’re gonna talk”, Tony tells him.

“Oh, no, I don’t think we -”

“We are going to talk, because _you owe me_ !”, Tony shouts at Loki, and there’s a split second in which he thinks that he saw Loki _wince_. He doesn’t know if he should be hopeful or even angrier because of that. Tony clenches his jaw, and repeats, “You fucking owe me.”

An explanation, an apology, something. _Something._

“Leave us alone”, Tony says.

Naturally, his mother doesn't like the idea. “Anthony, no, you -”

“Leave us alone”, he snaps, then feels bad when she recoils. “Sorry. Just - please. Okay? For a few minutes.”

She looks at him for a moment, but then she slowly nods and leaves, with one last glance at Loki, the room. Tony slams the door shut behind hair, ignoring the look she gives him over her shoulder, and then wards the room with a few spells to make sure they aren’t overheard. Loki is still standing on the other side of table, his eyes fixed on Tony. Tony stays where he is, close to the door.

“What the fuck is going on here?”, he wants to know. He only just manages to keep his voice from shaking.

Loki holds his gaze, looking bored. He sighs. “Oh my, you _really_ thought I liked you. To be honest, I had thought you to be a little less naive.” When Tony doesn’t say anything, Loki continues, “You want an explanation, hm? Well, then. I knew what you were capable of, of course, and I just had to wait for a the right moment to -”

“Cut the crap, Loki!”, Tony interrupts, his voice rising again. “Stop lying. Do you think I can’t tell? Because I fucking can and yes, fine, I’ve no idea what’s going on, but this isn’t -”, he gestures at Loki, “this isn’t _you_ . I know you. This isn’t _._ So tell me what’s going on so we can figure something out together or -”

“There is nothing we could _figure out_ ”, Loki snaps suddenly, the bored, cold mask crumbling off as if it was never even there at all. “It’s over. You have to leave. We broke one of the most important laws _in the universe_ , and Odin is not going to simply _ignore_ that.”

“So that’s why, huh? That’s why you came and asked what I am, that’s why you just _freaking left_ ?!” Tony feels his magic throwing angry, golden sparks, but he doesn’t care. He _is_ angry, and he is hurt and confused and wants to scream at Loki until it gets into his fucking head that this isn’t _okay._ “You left! You just ran away! And then _you locked me up_!”

“I didn’t know what to do!”, Loki shouts back, and it sounds honest; the look in his eyes is wild and desperate enough that Tony actually believes him. “If I had _known_ that you were the God of Life, this would never have happened. I would never have -”

“What, you’d never have _kidnapped me_?”

“No, I wouldn’t have! You don’t belong here, you can’t _stay here._ ”

Tony stares at him for a second. Loki looks like he is freaking _vibrating_ ; the tension in his body so tight that his magic makes the air around him flicker.

“You already decided that, right?”, Tony says, his voice clipped. “You locked me up so you could arrange everything - so you could _throw me out_ and _forget_ that I’d ever been here, right?”

Suddenly, Loki’s anger fades; his eyes widen and he shakes his head and comes around the table - “ _No,_ Anthony, you misunderstood, I -”

“Don’t fucking tell me I misunderstood!”, Tony shouts, and Loki flinches back. “Don’t - _You_ don’t get to decide what’s happening to me. You want to get rid of me, fine! You want to tell Odin the whole fucking thing was my idea, fine! It _was my goddamn idea._ But you just - You don’t get to act like you don’t care, like I’m _nothing_ to you, and you don’t get to make the deci -”

Suddenly, Tony finds himself pinned against the wall, and he’s so startled that he can’t even ask Loki what the fuck he is doing - but he doesn’t have to ask Loki that, anyway, because Loki is already _doing_ it, and Loki’s mouth is on Tony’s and it’s confusing and rough and _good_ , and -

Over, far too quickly.

Loki pulls away, but his hands are still grasping Tony’s shirt and keeping him where he is. The look in his narrowed eyes is so desperate that it makes Tony’s chest hurt.

“You are _everything_ to me, you fool”, Loki says - no, whispers, his voice ragged and broken but somehow still firm. “Everything.”

Tony just stares at him. His anger is gone, replaced by surprise. Loki doesn’t look into his eyes, but he stays close, touches his forehead to Tony’s own. He’s trembling.

“I’m trying to _protect_ you”, Loki continues. “I have to. Odin could -”, he takes a quivering breath, “He could kill you for this. But if he thinks that I made you do it, you will be safe. Your mother already believes it, if you just play along -”

“Loki”, Tony breathes. “Loki, no, I can’t - I can’t do that. What if you -”

Loki’s hands clench into fists, still grasping Tony’s shirt. “I do not care what happens to me.”

“But I do”, Tony says, and Loki opens his wide, sad eyes and looks at him again. Tony swallows. “It was my idea, my fault. I convinced you, let them -”

“No.” Loki takes a few steps back, suddenly; his trembling hands are fidgeting and he’s staring at Tony. He looks oddly lost. “I will not let them hurt you, and it’s not your fault, either. I should not have let you do it, because I knew this could happen.”

Tony looks at him. He still isn’t sure if he understands what’s going on. “Why did you let me do it?”

“I…” Loki stops. His voice is very quiet when he says, “Because what if I lost you, to death?”

That’s all he says, and he doesn’t have to say anything more. Because Tony understands, because, just briefly, he imagines what would happen if he died - Loki’s daughter would bring him to Helheim, and Loki would lead him into one of the spheres or create a new one for him, and that would be it. Loki doesn’t speak to the dead. Loki doesn’t spend time with the dead. Loki sits on his throne or in his library, and he sits there alone, because Tony is gone and Fenrir doesn’t like to visit the palace. And, yes.

That would be it.

“I’m sorry”, Loki says, still so quietly. “I really am. I never meant to hurt you.” He swallows, looks away, then adds, “I just wanted to know you.”

“Again”, Tony says.

Loki meets his eyes again, frowning. “What?”

“Kiss me again.”

Loki doesn’t do anything but stare at Tony for a long time, stunned, but eventually he carefully steps closer and stops just shy in front of Tony. “Are you -”

“Yes”, Tony says, grabs Loki’s lapels and pulls him close, smiling. “I’m sure.”

So Loki kisses him again and this time, Tony kisses back. Loki makes a soft sound, low in his throat, and presses even closer, slotting his tall, lean body against Tony’s and trapping the younger god between himself and the wall. Tony can’t breathe, although that’s more down to the kiss than to anything else. Loki’s lips are oddly cool, but they are warming up quickly, and they feel soft against Tony’s own and _good_. They taste even better. When Tony brushes his tongue against them for the first time, Loki actually gasps, then opens his mouth and deepens the kiss himself, making Tony moan softly in return. Tony reaches up, puts his hands first on Loki’s sides, then wraps his arms completely around him; he wants to be as close as possible.

It's soft and slow, and thorough. Loki is everywhere, somehow, and while Tony didn't fully understand it when Loki said it earlier, now he does - because Loki is _everything_ to him, too, and it feels like they were made for this. Their magic seems to think that, at least; Tony swears he can feel Loki's seep through his clothes and into his skin everywhere they touch. Loki's magic is warmer than his hands, warmer than his mouth - as warm as the look in his eyes when he smiles, maybe, and as sharp as one of his smirks.

It's Loki who breaks the kiss in the end, panting. He leans his forehead against Tony's again and closes his eyes. Tony keeps his own open even though he can't see a lot; he just wants to keep looking at Loki as long as he still can.

“I want to protect you, too”, he says quietly.

Loki lifts his head, and smiles. “The chance that Odin will have me executed is very low.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

“Yes.” Loki leans in and nuzzles Tony's cheek, lips brushing his skin. “He would like to, I'm sure, but he needs me. Helheim has not been this peaceful in millenia.”

Tony doesn't know if that's true. He trusts Loki, but he also believes that Loki wouldn't hesitate to lie to him to keep him safe.

“You won't let me stay here”, he realizes, and Loki shakes his head.

“No.”

“You don't get to make this decision alone.”

“I already did.” Loki sighs and wants to take a step back, but Tony's arms are still around him and he doesn't intend to let the older god go. Loki looks at him, too serious and too sad, and says, “I already made the decision. Your mother is here and she will take you back to Vanaheim.”

Tony tries to be angry, but he can't, not when Loki's looking at him like this. So, instead of being angry, he starts to be horrified.

He doesn't want to leave. He doesn't want Loki to be alone, and he doesn't want to stop seeing him every day. He also knows that this is his fault, no matter what Loki says, because it was Tony who insisted on bringing that mortal woman back, Tony who _brought_ her back. And now he has to leave and go back to his parents, who won't understand that stumbling into Helheim was the best thing that ever happened to him.

“This sucks”, he says weakly.

Loki kisses him again. Tony doesn't know if it's meant to be a distraction or a persuasion, but he falls for it, anyway.

“You have to keep Groot here”, Tony says when they break apart for the final time. “And the others, too.”

Loki is stunned speechless for a moment, then he shakes his head. “No, I can't possibly -”

“You have to”, Tony repeats. He's already taking off JARVIS’ bracelet.

Loki frowns. “Anthony -”

“Here”, Tony says and offers Loki the bracelet. “He'll tell you how to take care of them, if you have questions. It's not that hard. Just play with the bots - Dum-E always wants to play fetch, U likes to be read to, and Groot - you're good with him already, anyway, he likes you. Just make sure that he spends enough time in his garden, he needs the sunlight. And -”

“Anthony”, Loki interrupts. “You do not want to leave your children behind. They -”

“I don't want you to be alone.”

Loki's expression turns incredibly soft, but he doesn't say anything. Tony shrugs and puts the bracelet around Loki's wrist.

“Also, they took them from me once before. I'm not going to let that happen again. I'd rather they stay with you, I know you'll keep them safe.”

Loki frowns, his hand coming up to run his fingers over the bracelet. “Who took them from you?”

“My parents. When they found out I was still… creating.” Loki looks like he doesn't quite understand, so Tony lifts his shoulders and explains, “I wasn't meant to be able to do it. Giving life to things, I mean. It's weird, and wrong. I can't help it, though. I'm sorry it got us into trouble.”

Loki shakes his head, smiling, and suddenly leans in to kiss Tony's cheek. “You have a good heart, love. I do not blame you for that.”

_Oh._

Tony has to swallow, hard. “I'll come back”, he promises, aware that his voice sounds rough. “When all of this is over, when they forgot about it, I'll come back.”

Loki looks at him for a while, then slowly shakes his head. “I meant what I said. You do not belong here.”

“I belong with you”, Tony says firmly, and it doesn't take more than that to make Loki fall apart, apparently.

He pulls Tony close, wraps his arms around him and buries his head in his shoulder. It's a bit awkward because Loki is so much taller than him, but Tony doesn't care, he just hugs Loki back as firmly as he can. Loki's whole body is trembling.

Not long after, Tony leaves the room and closes the door behind him, quietly.

“Let's get out of here”, he says to his mother, who is still waiting for him.

When they leave Helheim, Tony doesn't look back. Instead, he comes up with a plan.

Because Loki doesn't think Tony will just put up with this, does he?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY KISSED! LOOK AT THEM! ~~Let's hope they get a chance to kiss again, right?~~


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments! Sorry I haven't yet gotten to answer them, I will do that in the next days.❤

Loki tries to keep his hand from trembling when he pushes the door open, but he doesn't quite manage. He quietly slips into the room and leaves the door open behind him, almost expecting to be thrown out by -

Well.

Anthony is not here anymore. He can't throw Loki out.

The workshop looks just like he remembers, and at the same time it seems entirely different. There are no golden letters and numbers and blueprints floating in the air, for one thing, and Anthony’s magic is only a faint echo, a memory. That makes it the single most horrible thing Loki has ever seen, and he is about to turn and firmly close the door behind him when he suddenly hears an abundance of whirring noises and metallic chirps that stop him from leaving the room.

Anthony’s children are coming towards him - three creatures Anthony fondly called “robots” or “bots”, the rare times he talked about them in Loki’s presence. The biggest of them, the one with the long metal arm and moving claws, tugs at Loki’s overcoat.

“Hello”, Loki says carefully. “I'm not sure if you remember me, I am… a friend of your father.”

The smallest of the robots beeps at him, and Loki is surprised to find that his Allspeak provides a translation, even though a fairly rough one without any words. _Excitement, worry, confusion._ Loki just blinks at the creature for a moment.

“I'm sorry”, he says then. “You must be waiting for your father, he -” Loki cuts himself off, unable to say the words. He forces himself to smile at the bots. “He trusts me to keep you well and happy, and I will try my best to do so. I'm afraid I don't know your names, so…”

They chirp again, but Loki can't understand any names. He doesn't know what to do, wonders if they can write or if there is any other, perhaps magical way he could -

“ _The tallest one is called Dum-E, sir. He is the oldest. The one trying to rid you of your shoes is Butterfingers, and U is currently trying to sneak past you out of the room._ ”

Loki reacts automatically - he raised three children; he has good reflexes in that regard - and turns to close the door before the robot can leave the room. Then he rolls back his sleeve to stare at his wrist. He is still wearing the metal bracelet Anthony gave him, and while he hasn't forgotten about it in the two days since Anthony left, he hasn't yet gotten to examine it properly.

“And who are you?”, Loki asks after a moment of silence, his tone light.

“ _Oh, I'm sorry - my name is Just A Rather Very Intelligent System_ , _sir. You can call me JARVIS. I am one of Master Stark's latest creations. We have met before, if you recall?_ ”

Loki blinks. “We have?”

“ _Yes. The first time you visited, Master Stark was just rebooting me. The journey to Helheim had thrown me off course a little._ ”

“Oh”, Loki says, “yes. I remember.” And he does; the glimmering ball of golden-red light was hard to forget. He has been wondering about it the whole time, but never dared to ask. “I don’t mean to be rude, but… _what_ are you, exactly?”

“ _Master Stark calls me an Artificial Intelligence, sir_ ”, JARVIS explains. “ _I am made of his magic, so I lack a physical body, but I can materialize in the form you saw the first time we met. I have all his projects saved for later reference and can also access my siblings and some of Master Stark’s tools. You could call me an assistant of sorts._ ”

“Ah”, Loki says, inclining his head. “Fascinating.”

“ _Thank you_ ”, JARVIS says, sounding sincere. “ _It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Master Stark has told us a lot about you._ ”

Loki smiles at that. “Truly?”

“ _Oh, yes._ ” There is a brief pause, then JARVIS asks, “ _Is he alright?_ ”

That makes Loki's smile fade. He swallows and lets his arm sink, feeling rather helpless as he looks down at Anthony's creation. They are waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't find any words.

“ _We know that he isn't here anymore_ ”, JARVIS says tentatively.  “ _I could hear everything. But we don't know what happened since he left._ ”

Yes, what happened? Loki isn't sure if he knows. He had a long, long discussion with Thor after Anthony went away; Thor wanted Loki to “make that mortal woman dead again” and Loki had a very hard time to explain him that he couldn't do that. And he didn't even lie, he _cannot_ just make her dead again. Well, naturally he could kill her, but that's not how it's supposed to work. Anthony managed to restore her life and now it was the Norns who would decide about her death, not Loki. Thor understood that, too, eventually, and brought her back to Midgard before _coming back to Helheim_ to have _another_ long discussion with Loki. About Anthony, this time.

Loki didn't know what to tell his brother. He doesn't know what to tell JARVIS, either. He only knows that Anthony kissed him, that Anthony might actually _want_ him, and that Anthony left. He left, and Loki made him leave because keeping Anthony safe is more important than anything else.

He didn't watch Anthony in the last two days, even though he could. Performing that spell would be the simplest thing, and he could take one last look at Anthony before -

He doesn't dare. He wants to remember Anthony like _that_ , just seconds after kissing him for the fourth time - it was the final time, Loki knows, a goodbye kiss. But he doesn't want to think about that, he just wants to see - Anthony, with his messy hair. Messy because Loki's own hands had made it so. That is what he wants to remember. Seeing Anthony at _home_ , alone, not even with his creations to cheer him up, would break Loki's heart.

Well. Break it _more._

“He is back in Vanaheim”, Loki tells JARVIS and the others, his smile tight. “My brother told me that he is well. I'll bring you to him as soon as the situation has calmed down a little.”

The tallest robot, Dum-E, beeps a few times - _worry, relief, acceptance._ He then starts nudging Loki's arm, so he carefully reaches out and pets the creature's odd head. Another chirp. _Thank you._

“You're more than welcome”, Loki says softly. He withdraws his hand not long after, unsure if he is _allowed_ to touch. Anthony doesn't like it when somebody touches his things. But he did commit his children to Loki's care, so he should be permitted to touch, yes? A little?

“ _Are_ you _alright, sir?”_

Loki blinks, pulled out of his thoughts by JARVIS’ question. “Yes”, he says. “Of course. Can you tell me where Groot is?”

“ _In his garden, on a tree. We couldn't get him to climb down._ ”

Loki looks over to the door that leads to the garden Anthony created for his little tree. It’s open, and he can see a bit of grass and forest soil and _could_ even see the sky, maybe, but Loki doesn’t look up high enough to catch a glimpse at it.

“I will be right back”, he tells Anthony’s robots and heads for that door, poking his head inside the room.

It is a pretty spot. Pretty enough that Loki’s throat tightens and his eyes start to burn, which is ridiculous, but he hasn’t seen something like this in _so long_. Not in person, anyway, not with his own eyes. There are flowers and a few still growing trees, and a streamlet weaving its way through grass that is already too high and rippling slightly in a soft breeze. A bumblebee whirrs lazily from flower to flower, and a butterfly flutters past Loki out of the room. It looks unusual, its wings glinting in the light like metal.  He stares after it for a second, wondering how long it will take until it dies in the darkness of Helheim.

Loki swallows and looks around the little patch of nature. He spots Groot sitting on a forked branch on one of the trees, a little bit above Loki’s head. He is looking at Loki already, his expression impressively stubborn, and Loki makes himself smile at him.

“Hello, little one. Your garden is lovely.”

Groot just keeps looking at him, evidently unimpressed.

“I brought a book”, Loki says, pulling it out of one of his pocket dimensions and showing it to Groot. “I wanted to read it to you and your siblings. If you want to join us, that is.”

Groot blinks and then narrows his eyes. He doesn't make any move to climb down the three, so Loki sighs and clamps the book under his arm.

“Well, then. You can study the book on your own later, of course. It's Midgardian.”

The last word does it, just like Loki knew it would - Groot knows that his father loves Midgardian things, and therefore he loves them, too. He's still in that age where a child's parents are their absolute role models. Hel didn't wear anything but green and black until she turned five hundred.

Groot reaches out for him, and Loki willingly steps closer. He lifts his arm so the twig can climb down from the tree and onto his shoulder, where he holds onto Loki’s hair. He’s trembling a little, and Loki would like to tell him that everything is alright, that Anthony is alive and well and Loki will be alive and well, too, and that there is nothing to worry about. The words don’t pass his lips. Loki doesn’t want them to be lies.

He smiles at Groot instead, and inclines his head so the sapling can play with his hair like he often does. When Loki carries him out of the garden, he has not once looked up at the sky.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

“You should be glad”, Thor says quietly. He looks oddly helpless, standing there in Loki's library, his fingers dancing over Mjölnir's handle again and again because he doesn't know what else to do with them

“Glad! Of course, yes. I am _glad._ And incredibly thankful and abject in front of the great Allfather's graciousness.”

“Brother, please. You could have been far worse off, now it is simply… house arrest. I know that you -”

“ _You_ know nothing”, Loki spats. He's pacing; the panic makes his skin crawl. “You don't know how I - I cannot just _stay here_ and wait until he gets hurt.”

“He will not get hurt, Loki”, Thor says. He steps closer, tries to calm Loki down by touching his arm, but Loki shrugs his touch off immediately. Thor sighs. “Father doesn't want to execute him.”

“Oh, please, he does want to”, Loki says through clenched teeth. “You mean that mother just won't let him.”

Thor frowns. “Father is also aware of how young he is, you know. He has also been friends with Howard Stark for three millennia, and Stark supplies the better part of Asgard's weapons.”

Loki scoffs, but he can't deny that Thor has a point. He doesn't think that well of Howard Stark, but he knows that Stark _does_ love his son and that he most likely doesn't want to see Anthony dead. His trading relations to Asgard might just be the best leverage he has.

“Besides”, Thor continues, “Word has spread in Asgard about what Anthony has done, and while some are shocked and suspicious, there a many who are fascinated by his powers. They don't want to see him dead.”

Loki narrows his eyes and studies his brother's face. “Word has spread? How?”

He thought that Odin would do anything to keep this whole scandal a secret. And it also seems so unlike the Aesir to be fascinated by something like this, or rather by someone like this. Anthony is different than all of them, and Loki expected the Aesir to be afraid of him.

Thor shrugs, smiling lightly in a way Loki remembers from their shared childhood. “Well, I might have talked to a chambermaid or two…”

Loki blinks. “And of course you told them that you think Anthony is a honourable young man who is merely a little overconfident.”

Thor's smile widens into a bright grin. “Not unlike myself when I was his age, yes.”

Loki tries to hide his smile - and his relief - by looking away. He has to admit that Thor is smarter than he is given credit for. Sometimes.

“I don't want to see him hurt, Loki”, Thor tells him, in that soft tone that never fails to make Loki uncomfortable. “I know what he means to you. And father knows that, too.”

Loki stares at Thor for a moment, his rare, _unfounded_ fondness for his brother fading again. “You didn't tell him, did you?”

“That my steadfast brother is head over heels in love with a nature deity?”

“Thor!”

“It's true.”

“He is not just a _nature deity_!”

“He's the God of Spring.”

“And life”, Loki retorts sharply. “And you _promised_ to say what I told you!”

“I did”, Thor replies calmly, still grinning. “I did, I promise. I told father that you confessed, that it was your idea and not Anthony's. But he knows you, Loki - you would never have let him stay here for so long if you weren't fond of him. And from that it is only a small step to the realization that you are protecting him.” Thor seems to realize that Loki is about to panic, because he adds, “Don't worry so much, Loki. Your Anthony will be fine.”

“You cannot promise that”, Loki snaps. What now? This lie he tried to tell was always wobbly, always not _quite_ believable - but what else can he do? He cannot even leave Helheim now, otherwise he would go and take Anthony somewhere safe, somewhere the Allfather's grasp can't reach -

Of course, Loki _could_ leave Helheim. He just needs to break Odin's spell, which is keeping him from running away. It would take some time, but it's not impossible.

“I do”, Thor says suddenly, and Loki focuses on him again.

“What?”

“I promise.” Thor's expression is grim. “If Anthony is called to Asgard, I will be there. And I will make sure that nobody harms him. You have my word.”

Loki just gapes at him for a few seconds, but then he scoffs and hisses, “You are a _fool_ , Thor, if you believe that you could stop Odin from doing what he wants.

“I told you”, Thor says patiently. “He doesn't want to execute him. Father is not unfair, Loki, and he is not cold hearted, either. Have a little more faith in him.”

“Oh, forgive me, but I find it difficult to have faith in a man who banished my children and me to _Helheim_ , only because my newborn _baby_ was -”

He cuts himself off with a huff and starts pacing again; mostly to escape the sad look of his brother's eyes.

“You know that it was not only because of Hel”, Thor says, but Loki just glares at him. Thor sighs. “But that hardly matters now. I really think Anthony will be fine. Odin has not even demanded to speak to him yet, and maybe he will just let it go.”

Loki looks at his brother, sceptical, but Thor's optimism is imperturbable.

“As long as Anthony stays in Vanaheim and takes care of his duties, nothing will happen to him.”

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

New York is a strange place.

Since Tony set a foot on Midgard three hours ago, he has been almost overrun by a car four times, by a bus one time, but by now he has understood that you can’t just cross the street wherever you like, but have to use these odd passages where red and green lights tell you whether it’s safe or not. He has also understood that most Midgardians don’t like to be asked for the way; everybody he addressed just ignored him. Tony doesn’t really mind. He used magic to found out the address and could use magic to find the way, too, but he doesn’t want to draw more attention than necessary to himself, and he also needs to save his energy. So he just strolls the streets and gets behind their system. It gives him a chance to examine every building he passes - the incredibly high ones that look like they are made of glass, the row houses, the facilities. Tony even stepped into two or three on his way - he went through a golden revolving door only to immediately leave again - the servant behind the door looked at him oddly -, he looked around a store with Midgardian technology and _almost_ conjured up some local currency to buy a “phone”. He did conjure up money to buy a ridiculous book on magic and some “magical aides” (funny looking stones, incense sticks, a pretty set of cards) in a so called “esoteric shop”. Loki’s going to laugh his ass off when Tony shows him this stuff.

Right now, Tony is standing in an “elevator” and trying not to freak out. He’s never liked cramped rooms, and cramped rooms that _move_ are not a good combination. Humans should hurry and get behind teleportation, really, their means of transport are _archaic._ He should have just taken the stairs.

When he finally stands in front of the door that has been his goal all along, he isn’t sure what to do. In the end he just presses that little button on the wall because it looks like it needs to pressed, and then he waits. It doesn’t take long until the door is opened, and he lets out a relieved breath when he recognizes the woman.

“Hi”, he says, grinning widely. “Natasha, right?”

She looks at him for a moment, the look in her eyes shocked before she expertly puts on a mask of boredom and maybe slight interest. _Impressive_ , Tony thinks; so far he thought Loki’s absolute control over his face was unique. Maybe he should introduce the two.

“You are -”

“Tony, yes”, he interrupts.

“Is something wrong?”, she asks, her tone calm. Tony isn’t fooled.

“Nope, everything’s peachy”, he says. For her, anyway. “I’m here to ensure that it stays that way. Can I come in?”

Natasha hesitates, but then she nods and steps aside so Tony can enter. She closes the door behind him and calls for Pepper, then leads the way to what looks like the living room. Pepper meets them there, her eyes widening when she sees Tony.

“Everything’s alright”, he tells her before she can ask. “You look great, have you -”

“Why are you here?”, Natasha cuts him off.

Tony looks at her, raising his brows. “As I said, to make sure that everything _stays_ alright. Or to make sure that _you_ stay _alive_ , if you want to hear it more clearly.”

“Do they want to take her back again?”, Pepper asks, her voice tight. “Thor tried, but -”

“Loki won’t let that happen”, Tony says firmly. “It’s against the rules. But well, since we broke the rules, too, Odin could get the idea that it’s fine to… you know.”

“Kill me”, Natasha fills in.

“You like to call things as they are, huh? I thought this would be some sort of sensitive topic, but -”

“She’s a spy”, Pepper informs him, waving her hand. “She is used to -”

“Pepper!”, Natasha hisses, and Pepper lifts her hands.

“Sorry”, she says. “But I doubt that Anthony cares about American state secrets.”

“I don’t”, Tony agrees lightly, even though it does sound interesting. “And it’s Tony.”

Pepper smiles at him. “Okay. Do you want something to drink? Sit down, I can -”

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?”, Natasha demands curtly.

“Sure”, Tony says, nodding. He still follows Pepper’s invitation, takes off his bag and sits down on the comfortable looking, _Midgardian_ sofa. Tony has never used Midgardian furniture before, apart from the stuff Loki can conjure up in Helheim. But that’s not technically Midgardian, so -

“Are you still with us?”, Natasha asks, making Tony look up from the cushions.

“Yup, of course, it’s just - Midgard fascinates me.”

Natasha doesn’t look impressed.

“Okay, anyway, what we’re going to do - I’m gonna ward these rooms and you will stay here. I worked on some spells that should be strong enough that Odin will at least need some time to break them, so you will be safe until I have sorted things out with him.”

“I can’t stay here”, Natasha says at once. “I have a job to do.”

Tony shrugs. “Well, I can’t force you. So if you want to go back to Helheim -”

“No. No, she stays here.” Pepper gives Natasha a warning look when she wants to protest, and surprisingly Natasha actually stays silent. Tony wonders if death glares are her version of pouting. Pepper ably ignores them. “How do you want to - _ward_ our apartment, exactly?”

“Oh, it’s easy”, Tony says and jumps up again. “Spells, as I said. Magic. You can watch if you want.”

And so he finds himself warding the _apartment_ of a Midgardian couple with some of the most complicated spells he has ever used. He worked on them non-stop for the last three weeks, and in the end he’s pretty proud of them. He wonders what Loki would say if he knew about this. He would probably argue that it’s a waste of magic, only to give Tony a chance to argue against it, and in the end Loki’s expression would soften, and he would ask for details about how Tony crafted the spells.

When the wards are all in place, Tony misses Loki so badly that the room is spinning around him. His chest feels too tight, but there isn’t anything he can do about it.

He smiles at Pepper, and also at Natasha even though she’s looking at him like she doesn’t trust him an inch. “All done. Now you just have to be patient, I’ll come back as soon as I - oh.”

The room is actually _swaying_ now, or maybe it’s Tony himself, and for a moment he feels like he’s going to get sick and throw up on the pretty, thick carpet on the floor. His vision is already getting blurry at the edges and he wonders if he’s going to faint, but then there are two sets of hands on him, steadying him.

“Are you alright?”, Pepper asks, her eyes wide and concerned, and Tony tries to nod. Hel, his head hurts.

“Yeah”, he murmurs, his tongue feeling too heavy in his mouth. “Just… Was just a bit too much, ‘m fine.”

At further thought, Loki would definitely shout at him for this.

“Let’s get him to the sofa”, Natasha says, and they do get him to the sofa and made him sit down.

Tony closes his eyes and tries to make his head stop spinning. The water Pepper brings him helps a little, and eventually his stomach even stops churning. He’ll go home, he’ll sleep for twenty hours, and then he will be fine. He tells himself that and almost believes it, even though he can’t fully ignore the sense of dread that’s creeping up his spine.

“Is that normal?”, Pepper asked, sounding terribly concerned.

 _No. No, not really._ Tony makes himself smile at her. “Yeah. Happens when I use too much magic at once, it’s fine.” _You are very young_ , Loki said to him, once. Ages ago.  “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”, Natasha asks, and Tony nods.

“Totally”, Tony says. He takes his bag and stands up, trying not to swagger too badly. “It was nice to see you guys again, but I really have to - you know, take care of things. Shouldn’t take me longer than a few weeks.”

He’s already making his way to the door, and both Natasha and Pepper follow him. “Can we do anything to help?”

Tony glances at Pepper and shakes his head. “No. I’ll get it done, don’t worry. We’ll see each other soon, okay?”

“Okay”, she says tentatively, and a few minutes later Tony is back in the elevator.

He leans against the mirrored wall, holding onto the handrail, and tries to keep the world from falling apart around him. He felt like this before - in his forest, the first time, and many other times since he left Helheim. He can’t say what’s going on, he can’t ask anybody for help - well, the only one he _could_ ask - and wants to ask, so badly - is beyond reach right now. And he can hardly talk to his parents; they are barely even looking at him at the moment.

Tony is alone, and his magic is crumbling.

Not exactly the best conditions to convince the Allfather to make a deal with him.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

The garden Anthony created for Groot is withering.

Loki notices it almost five weeks after Anthony left. He just managed to convince Groot to go to sleep when he sees the small spot of withered grass, the obviously dead soil. It looks unnatural and almost  in the middle of vibrant green and blooming flowers, and for a moment he wonders if he is just imagining it. But no, it is really there, and Loki has the dreadful feeling that it will spread.

He doesn't know what to do.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

The first thing Thor thinks when he sees Anthony Edward Stark - Tony Stark, as he likes to be called - walk into the throne room is whether it would be appropriate to call the healers. The young god is pale and the circles under his eyes indicate that he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a very long time. He also looks too thin, and the feel of his magic is only a weak flicker. But his back his straight and his steps are firm, and Thor assumes that calling the healers would insult him, so he stays silent.

He glances at his father, who is is sitting on his throne, Gungnir in his hand, his eye already fixed on Tony. They knew that Tony had entered Asgard the moment he appeared, even though neither Thor nor Odin know _how_ he came here. He certainly didn't use the Bifrost.

Tony holds Odin's gaze all the way through the long hall, until he comes to a halt in front of the throne, keeping an appropriate distance. He greets the Allfather with a respectful bow, bringing his arm to his chest like the tradition demands, and he even waits until Odin allows him to straighten himself. Thor is surprised; he didn't expect Tony to be this polite. The young god's eyes flicker away from Odin to glance at Thor, who is standing a few stairs below the throne. Toy nods at him in greeting and recognition; a gesture Thor returns after a second of hesitation.

“How did you get here, Howardson?”, is the first thing Odin asks.

Tony's eyes snap back to him, his smile sharp. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

So much for politeness.

Odin raises a brow, but Tony doesn't seem bothered. “I'm here to offer you a deal.”

“ _You_ wish to offer _me_ a deal”, Odin repeats. Both his expression and his tone reveal nothing about his thoughts, but Thor knows his father well enough - he is already angry. “You are rather brash for your age.”

“It's one of my best qualities”, Tony says lightly, his smile widening into a grin that shows teeth. “So, what do you say?”

“I say”, Odin answers, “that I should punish you for your insolence.”

“Right. So the oh so generous Allfather”, Tony gestures at the throne, the spear, the entire golden hall, “doesn't even want to give me a chance? A hearing?”

He seems taller than he is, Thor realizes. In spite his obvious sickness and his youth, he holds himself well. Thor doesn't know how much of that is pretend, but even to pretend, especially in front of the Allfather, demands a lot of confidence. The only thing about the little god that seems out of place in the great hall of Asgard is his accent - Thor knows that he is only half Aesir and grew up in Vanaheim, so it makes sense that his voice has the slight tilt that is common for the Vanir. But his choice of words, his very way of speaking isn't something Thor knows from his mother, who was born in Vanaheim, too. It reminds him of Midgard, and he thinks that Tony would have done well to discard that habit while speaking to the Allfather.

“You broke one of the most important laws of the Nine Realms”, Odin tells the young god. “Many would argue that one who committed such a crime does not deserve to be granted a hearing.”

“Even when I hand myself over out of my own free will?”, Tony counters, his brows raised. “I'm being cooperative, am I not?”

“You are being a nuisance.”

“Thanks", the God of Spring says, grinning again. “Annoying you was one of the things I wanted to achieve.”

Thor suppresses a sigh. Why isn't he surprised that _this_ is the god his brother so utterly smitten with?

Odin narrows his eye. “You are not helping your case, Howardson.”

“It's Stark”, Tony corrects lightly. “Tony Stark. And okay, fine. You want to throw me into a cell? Go ahead. I won't be able to take care of my duties then, though. But spring and vegetation are things we can live without, right?”

“I could simply have you executed”, the Allfather says. “A new god would be born, and I am sure they would undertake your tasks a lot better than you are doing currently.”

“Sure thing. But you should know that I can clear out of here just as quickly as I came, and that I won't let you reach me in time to cut off my head. I'm fond of my head.”

Thor frowns, and Odin raises a brow. Tony must be bluffing. But well, none of Asgard's alarms or defense mechanism gave signals when Tony appeared in front of the palace. As far as they know he simply teleported, but that shouldn't be possible, especially not for someone this young. But well, Thor wouldn't put it past the little god, he remembers how often Loki spoke of Tony's bright mind.

“And what would you do after your grand flight?”, Odin inquires, his tone now almost mocking. “You can hardly escape Asgard forever.”

“Nope, but I can fight it.”

Thor feels his eyes widen. He can't quite believe that this young god just threatened _Asgard_ , and for a moment even the Allfather seems a little baffled.

“Fight Asgard?”, he says. “ _You?_ ”

Tony looks at Odin like he thinks him stupid. Thor prays to the Norns that it won't cost him his head, but Tony himself doesn't sound particularly worried when he says, “Well, as I recently showed, I _can_ bring dead people back to life. And I also happen to be friends with the God of Death. I'm sure that's no surprise, but there are a whole lot of dead people in Helheim, and also a lot of dead warriors.” He grins and shrugs. “I've no doubt that many of them would like to stop being dead, and if I offered to make that possible, I could easily demand a service in return.”

Odin's expression has darkened. “Loki has sworn fidelity to Asgard.”

“I didn't”, is all Tony says.

Odin sighs, and stands up. He walks down the stairs, Gungnir still in his hand, and stops on the lowest step, from where he can still look down at Tony. The God of Spring doesn't even flinch.

“And what deal would you like to offer me, little god?”, Odin asks.

Tony doesn't seem surprised, he just smirks. “I'll never bring anyone back to life again. I'm even willing to swear by the Norns. And I will take care of my other duties, too. So you won't have to wait until a new God of Spring is born and old enough to do it, and I won't break any important universal laws again.”

Odin looks at him for a long while, his head inclined. “Given that you are suggesting a deal”, he says eventually, “I suppose that you are demanding something in return.”

“Yup”, Tony says, his expression turning serious. “You will let me - me, and my creations - live in Helheim, and you'll leave us alone. You will leave _Loki_ alone. That's all.”

“You wish to live with Loki”, Odin states, the hint of mockery in his voice. “Why?”

“ _Why_ is none or your fucking business.”

Thor closes his eyes. What is he going to do if Odin does decide to have Anthony's head? Thor promised to protect him and he _will_ protect him, but Anthony could at least _try_ not to make the Allfather seriously angry.

“You do not even know him, boy.”

Tony snorts. “If there's one of the two of us who doesn't know him, it's not me.”

“Has he told you what he did?”, the Allfather asks, unperturbed. “What he is?”

“I know _who_ he is. That's more than enough for me.”

“You are naive.”

“You are old. Can we go back to our deal, now?”

The silence that follows lasts too long. From where he stands, Thor can't see his father's face. He hopes that Tony wasn't bluffing earlier, that he really is able to teleport right out of Asgard again. That would give Thor at least enough time to talk his father and try to soothe the tides - and to send a message to Loki, and tell him that he has to hide his little god as quickly and as good as possible.

Thankfully, Odin's voice is still calm when he eventually speaks again. “You want to promise to fulfill your duties, and yet I don't even know if you are _able_ to.”

“I _am_ -”

“You are sick, _Tony Stark._ You have lost control over your powers.” Odin walks down the last step of the stairs and stops directly in front of Tony, who doesn't back away. “I can _smell_ your magic. It is rotting, just like the forest you were meant to take care of.”

Thor can see Tony's eyes, the dark and grim expression in them. And he can also see the young god's trembling hands.

“I can do it”, Tony says. “I'll fix it. And if not -”

He doesn't finish, so Odin cocks his head and prompts, “Yes?”

“Well. You'd get your chance to kill me, after all.”

“I don't wish to kill you, godling”, Odin says; Thor can hear the smile in his voice. “And I would not have thrown you into a cell, either. But I understand that you aren't doing this to protect yourself.”

“I don't have all day, you know. Do we have a deal or what?”

“I cannot let you live in Helheim", Odin replies. “You have to be in Vanaheim to awake spring and keep it alive.”

Tony presses his lips together, thinking and glaring at Odin, and eventually says, “Half a year, then. I'll spend spring and summer in Vanaheim, fall and winter in Helheim.”

Silence, for a long time. “Agreed”, Odin says theb, and Tony lets out a breath that he must have been holding for a long time.

They give each other their word. The Norns pay witness. And after that, Tony vanishes into thin air.

“He is still in Asgard”, Odin says, and Thor nods, already on his way out of the throne room.

“I'll take care of him”, he promises. At the big doors, he stops just long enough to speak to one of the guards, just one sentence. “Call for the Queen.”

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

Tony doesn't know where exactly he is, and he doesn't even particularly care at the moment. He is busy trying to catch his breath, busy trying not to _faint._ His vision is black at the edges and his legs are too weak; they can't hold his weight. He searches for support at the nearest wall, but soon that's not enough anymore and he sinks to the ground, his eyes closed as he leans against the cold marble behind him.

It's getting worse.

Every spell, every slightest use of magic demands so much energy that _this_ almost cost Tony his life. He knows that. Finding a way to Asgard was easy - Loki told him about the secret passages all over Yggdrasil often enough, Tony figured out how to look at them. But actually _using_ them… Well. He managed, on the way to Asgard. But now? He's still in the palace, hidden in some passage that is probably not a good place to hide at all, and he doesn't know how to get back to Vanaheim. He can't walk the skies again, he's too -

Too sick.

_Rotting, just like the forest you were meant to take care of._

There is a cool hand on his forehead, suddenly, and he flinches so hard that he hits his head against the wall.

“Shh”, somebody says, and he focuses his gaze to find himself looking into a pair of pale, blue eyes. “I won't hurt you.”

Tony wants to shout, wants to get away, but before he can do anything, something changes. Warmth seeps out of the cool fingertips and into his skin, and it soothes all his aching muscles and also the throbbing pain in his chest. He can breathe freely again, suddenly, and his vision clears and he isn't so damned _tired_ anymore, and the eyes he's looking into belong to -

Oh.

He swallows. “Uh. Hi.”

The Queen of Asgard smiles and slowly pulls her hand away. “Better?”

Tony tries to nod, but he isn't quite sure if his head actually moves. “Yeah.”

“Good.” She is crouching in front of him, the look in her eyes warm and slightly concerned. “What you did was very brave.”

The _and stupid_ is very audible, and somehow, Tony manages to smile. “Thanks.”

“You do not have enough energy to awake an army of dead souls”, Frigga tells him calmly. “I hope you are aware of that.”

“Yeah. Yes, it was just -” He doesn't know what to say, so he just shrugs.

“I see”, the queen says. She's still smiling. “And what are you going to do now?”

“I…” His eyes flicker away from her face. He spots Thor standing in the narrow corridor, discreetly looking into another direction. “I'm going to heal my forest.”

Frigga stays silent for long enough that Tony looks at her again. Only then she says, “Do you know what is happening to you?”

Tony stares, and eventually shakes his head.

Her smile is lenient. “Your magic is suffering”, she says softly, reaching out to touch her fingertips to his chest, right where it hurts so _much_ every time after he uses magic. “Not _rotting_ , not yet, but it's in great danger. If you continue like this, I am afraid you might lose it.”

“ _Lose_ it-", Tony repeats, breathless. “But it's a part of me, how can I…” He trails off.

“Yes, it is a part of you.” Frigga inclines her head, his fingers still resting on Tony's chest. “A part you have been neglecting.” She seems to see or sense that Tony doesn't understand, because after a moment she continues, “Both your gardens and your forest are connected to you, to the very core of you. Now that you are not even looking after your garden in Helheim anymore, they are all withering.” She taps his chest once, twice, them withdraws her hand. “Your sickness, or rather the sickness of your magic, is an echo of theirs, which doesn't make it any less dangerous for you.”

Tony's mind is oddly blank. It takes almost a minute until he comes up with something to say. “But my forest - it's been like this for a while, must have been, and this - This only started… recently.”

“Oh, it started a long time ago", Frigga says, shaking her head. “But your magic is very strong, so you did not notice it.” Her smile returns. “I do wonder what you will be capable of if your forest is restored.”

“I can - Can I do that? Restore it?”

“Yes, but it will take a lot of energy. Energy you currently don't have.”

“But _how_ -”

“Go back to Vanaheim”, she interrupts him softly. “Heal your garden, first. You should feel a little better then. And then start with your forest and heal, one tree after another. One tree at a time.”

Tony swallows thickly. “Sounds like fun.”

Frigga smiles and gently takes his hand. “Come. Up with you.”

He lets himself be pulled on his feet by her, and he doesn't even stagger when he stands. Not a lot, anyway. Frigga nods her head to indicate in which direction to go, and he absently recalls his manners and offers her his arm. She takes it, smiling at him, and Thor follows a few steps behind them when they start to walk.

“Hey”, Tony says. “How did you - How did you know of my garden? In Helheim?”

“Oh, I watch my son from time to time. He spent a lot of time there recently.”

“Your son?”

Frigga follows his glance, looking back at Thor. She smirks. “My other son.”

“Your other -” Tony stops walking. He stares at the Queen of Asgard, then at Thor, and remembers how Thor calles Loki _brother._ “You - hel. You're Loki's mother. That's why - _oh._ ”

Frigga gives him some time to process his realization, watching him with a raised brow. “I am”, she says then. “Although we are not related by blood.”

“Oh”, Tony says again. He feels incredibly stupid. His mind is reeling and he remembers that time line he made what feels like ages ago, remembers what he said - _That means he was born in the middle of the war with the Jotnar._

_Do you know what he is?_

“Come now”, Frigga says, carefully tugging at his arm. “You can take the Bifrost back to Vanaheim. Thor will bring you to Heimdall.”

Tony is still half lost in thoughts, which he is abruptly pulled out of when Frigga cups his face and leans in to kiss his forehead.

“And thank you”, she says quietly. “I have not seen Loki as happy as he is with you in a very long time. I hope that you will get your chance.”

Tony has no idea what to say to that, so he just nods.

 

⸪ ⸫ ⸪

 

The first time Loki has the courage to open a magical window to Vanaheim is almost three months after Anthony left. To his surprise, he doesn't see Anthony in his workshop, but in his garden, where he is tending to the flowers.

It's springtime, Loki realizes, and then he sees how sick Anthony looks.

From there on, he watches Anthony every day, just like he did before they actually met each other. He watches as Anthony spends more time in his garden than he ever has before, and he watches as Anthony makes a first step into his forest, the fear so visible in his eyes that Loki's hair stands on end. He watches as Anthony makes his way to the core of his forest, one tree at a time. It takes days, weeks, and even though his forest is healing, Anthony just looks worse and worse.

Loki watches. He waits for Anthony to reach the core, and Loki will be ready when he does.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Tony doesn't want to be here.

He is sick of the darkness, the moldy air, the stench. The ground is too soft beneath his feet, too slippery. He feels like he will have to puke - _again_ \- when he has to touch another rotten tree.

But he touches another rotten tree, of course. And then another and another, and the next one always takes him longer to resurrect than the one before. He sucks the sickness out of them - and not only out of the trees, but also out of the bushes, the grass, the wildflowers and the steams. He plows through festered soil, his teeth gritted and his limbs tired, so _tired_ , and with every step the pain in his chest becomes worse. His magic light flickered out long ago; he doesn't have enough magic left to keep it alive.

Tony doesn't look back. He is moving not in big circles like he should, but in one straight line into the deepest part of his forest. He only rests when he absolutely he has to, and he doesn't once look over his shoulder at the parts of his forest that are stirring back to life. The temptation to watch is too great. It's not an abrupt process, after all, it doesn't happen in a few seconds - no, it's slow and steady; the ground remembering what to do with fresh water, branches stretching languidly to soak up warm sunlight, roots digging deeper. Tony can feel the light prickling in his neck and the fresh air behind him, can hear the trees calling after him, their voices distant; not much more than a dream he is about to forget.

Some are cursing him. Some are thanking him. Some are begging him to turn around and rest, because, apparently, he is facing death.

Gods, Tony hopes that he is.

It's when he touches his fingers to the bark of a long dead pine that Tony recognizes where he is. He draws in a breath, coughing a bit because the air is just as bad as he remembers. His throat is too dry. He lets go of the pine and stumbles into the very center of his forest, where he comes to a jarring halt, only just managing to stay on his feet.

He takes a few sips of water and some bites of food before he throws his bag to the ground and closes his eyes. He can't go tree by tree for much longer. That would kill him. What he needs to do is awaken the core and then the rest. Because doing the hardest thing should make all the other things easier, right?

Tony forces himself to breathe slowly and deeply, even though it feels like there isn't enough oxygen in the stale air. He can do this. He has to, the bots are waiting for him, _Loki_ is waiting for him. (Or maybe he thinks that he will never see Tony again. Which makes Tony need to hurry even more.)

He calls upon his magic - has to pull it out of his chest with force because there is so little left and it doesn't want to be used. He wants to let it rest, but he can't, he needs to do this and he needs to do it _now_ , before he loses the courage.

His magic accepts its fate, eventually, and pours out of him like the last drops of blood dripping out of a lethal wound. It sinks into the ground, tries to dig through soil and moldering leaves, searching for roots it can hold onto.

Tony already knows that he won't succeed. But, well, that's the thing with magic - you can't call it back. Not with spells like this, anyway; spells that are less actual spells than feelings and _instinct._ Because here, in this forest, Tony's magic is nothing less or more than his sixth sense, his tool to fulfill the task he was given, and he _can't._ He can't do it.

His breaths come in shallow gasps, his eyes fly open as if he can see _anything_ in this damned darkness. The ground is swaying beneath him, his knees turning weak; he knows that he will fall and that he won't be able to get up, and -

And warm arms are wrapped around him, suddenly, pulling him firmly back on his feet. A body presses against his back, chest heaving with gasped breaths, a voice brushing his ear.

“This is not the right time to fall, love.”

Tony would laugh, maybe, if he had enough energy left.

“You have to focus”, Loki tells him, his voice so incredibly soft and _gods_ , Tony missed him so much - “ _Anthony._ Stay with me.”

Tony is already leaning into Loki's embrace, trying to melt or even _disappear_ into the body behind him because this, right here, is the only safe place in this whole damned forest.

“I can't”, he says, breathless. “I can't -”

“Shh”, Loki soothes him at once, pressing his lips to Tony's neck in a soft kiss. “You can, and you will. Breathe. Stay on your feet.” Loki's foot nudges Tony's own, making him bring his feet farther apart until his stand becomes more stable. “I am here, nothing will harm you. _Focus._ ”

Tony's thoughts are hazy, but Loki's firm voice makes it easier to concentrate. He sucks in a sharp breath, and nods.

“Good.” Loki's fingers wander up his chest until they come to rest right there where the pain is throbbing beneath Tony’s skin. “Your magic is not dead. There is still enough left, I can _feel_ it. This simply requires more energy than you can muster on your own. Use mine. Do you know how to do that?”

Tony forces his mind to stop reeling. _Does_ he know how to do that? “Yes. Yes, I - I do.”

“Then do it.”

“But -”

“I’m not sure how much time I have”, Loki cuts him off, his tone gentle but firm. “Do it.”

Tony didn’t even realize that he opened his eyes - the darkness is adamant -, but now he closes them again. Loki’s body is unusually warm against his back, or maybe it just seems like that in comparison to the coldness all around them. The better part of Tony’s magic is still digging its way through the ground beneath their feet, but there is still a little left, and that Tony uses to search for _Loki’s_.

It’s almost too easy. When he concentrates, Tony can feel Loki like he could also feel the warm light of a candle. He can see him, too, a vibrant flicker of light, emerald green at the edges - that was what led him back to Loki that one day when Loki showed him the spheres of Helheim, that was what Loki’s clone _didn’t_ have. Loki is alive, and his magic is so powerful that Tony feels like it will crush him, just for the first second when he reaches out for it. But then, Loki’s magic is also _Loki_ , and Loki is… almost overwhelmingly gentle, when he wants to be. His magic is the same. It - Loki - doesn’t hesitate when Tony calls for it and immediately, but carefully floods his body, until it reaches the aching spot under Tony’s ribs. Tony can feel it curl around his own magic, protecting and strengthening it, and breathing is a whole lot easier all of a sudden. Loki’s magic feels different, a little darker than Tony’s own, and _searing_. He could burn himself on it, Tony knows, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind at all.

Behind him, Loki gasps and presses even closer, wrapping his arms more firmly around Tony and holding him as close as possible. Tony wants to ask if he’s okay, but then, he can _feel_ that Loki is very much okay, and, well. This is only the most intimate thing two mages can do, right? Nothing to freak out over.

Tony shrugs off his nervousness, ignores the shiver running up and down his spine and the warmth pooling low in his belly. His head is clear for the first time in _days_ , and he knows what he has to do. Loki’s magic obeys him just as well as Tony’s own - even better than his own, maybe - and it willingly seeps into the soil beneath them. It’s Tony’s own magic that leads the way and pulls the energy to where he needs it to be, Loki’s magic just _follows_. Loki gives it to him, Tony can do with it whatever he wants, and so he does what he does best - he pours life into the very earth beneath their feet.

It’s a rush. Tony can feel the energy spread out from where they stand, can watch the waves he has caused by throwing a single, well-aimed stone. The ground beneath them quivers; it’s as if it’s shedding years and decades and centuries of death. Tony has done this a million times before. He _knows_ what is happening, doesn’t even have to watch - grass grows, flowers bloom, trees shake their newly-grown leaves. But it’s not only the spot he is standing on, not just the tree he is touching, it’s -

The entire forest.

The power flooding his veins is endless and old and _addicting_ \- Tony remembers how proud he was when he planted his first tree and saw it grow, he remembers how Loki looked at him when he saw his workshop for this first time. And in these few minutes he understands that this is what he is _meant_ for, an aspect of that, anway. It’s life, in the purest, simplest of ways; _life_ , and creation.

 _I do wonder what you will be capable of when your forest is restored_ , Frigga said and yes, Tony wonders, too. He knows that, in a few centuries, he won’t need Loki’s help to do something like this.

He’s young, after all. Everybody keeps telling him that.

When he’s done, it is… difficult to come back to himself. Tony’s head is spinning, in an oddly good way, but his thoughts are clear and his limbs aren’t aching anymore. The pain in his chest is also mostly gone; the only thing remaining of it is a faint echo. Tony has to focus to see with his eyes instead of with the instinct he was given when he was born. It doesn’t quite fade, though; he is still incredibly aware of the forest around them, can hear every single sound and feel the smallest living being. The brightest of it is Loki, no doubt, and feeling _him_ makes Tony step out of the other god’s embrace to turn around and look at him.

Loki’s arm sink down to his sides; he seems to be a little dazed. His eyes are wide and stunned, but they aren’t looking at the resurrected forest around them, they are fixed on Tony. When he speaks, his voice is more than a little rough.

“You truly are the God of Life.”

Tony can’t help it, he laughs, because fuck, he _is_ , isn’t he? He can’t resist walking closer to Loki now, wants to reach out for him, because he feels like they shouldn’t _not_ be touching right now. But Loki catches his wrists before Tony can touch him, his grip careful but soft.

“I have to go”, he says, and Tony feels disoriented again, all at once.

“Why?”, he asks.

“I am not allowed to leave Helheim. I broke Odin’s ban, if he -”

“You’re safe here.” Tony hasn’t ever been surer of something. “Odin doesn’t even know you’re here.”

Loki frowns slightly, inclining his head. “How do you -”

“I know.”

Loki blinks and lets go of Tony’s hands. Tony immediately steps closer and runs his fingers over Loki’s chest, feeling the soft leather; his hands are trembling. He can still feel Loki’s magic and Loki is right _here_ after months of missing him and Tony doesn’t want to _talk._ And so he doesn’t let Loki ask the question he obviously wants to ask, and it seems like Loki forgets about it, too, because as soon as Tony is kissing him, he’s kissing back.

Tony hears a low sound that might be his own, then buries his hands in Loki’s soft hair and pulls him closer until they are chest to chest. The older god’s hands find their way to Tony’s waist, and he has to lean down and Tony has to tilt his head back and it’s _perfect_. Tony is too impatient to waste time with slow or soft kisses and Loki doesn’t seem to mind, judging by his groan and the way he immediately meets Tony’s tongue with his own, his fingers digging into the smaller god's sides to keep him close.

When Tony pushes at his chest, Loki willingly and blindly stumbles backwards, gasping when his back hits the nearest tree - the pine - and Tony crowds him against it. Loki’s breath is hot in Tony’s mouth, his tongue demanding, and Tony knows that they could continue like this for ages - but Loki’s magic is still humming in his veins, and he can feel Loki reaching out for _Tony’s_ magic, which has never granted a request this willingly. Tony has never been this close to anybody, he can actually _feel_ Loki now. Loki’s heartbeat is forcefully echoing in Tony’s blood, their arousal clouding the other’s head as if it was their own - it _is_ their own - and still it isn’t enough.

Tony tears at the damned buckles of Loki’s jacket, trying to get it off him but too distracted to have his magic do it for him. Loki inhales sharply and almost bites down on Tony’s lip in surprise, but then he suddenly spins them around. Now it’s Tony who is pinned against the tree and Loki’s hands aren’t on him anymore, because they are busy freeing Loki of his complicated jacket. It’s done in a few seconds and still not quickly enough. They don’t stop kissing until the jacket is finally gone and Tony can hook his fingers under the seam of Loki’s tunic. He pulls it over the other god’s head and tosses it aside, then puts his hand on Loki’s nape, grasping a few of the raven strands. Loki is already leaning down and kissing him again, now biting Tony’s lower lip on _purpose._

Tony groans and pulls away because suddenly he is in dire need for air, but Loki doesn’t give him a long enough pause to breathe properly. He already claims Tony’s lips again, then lets his own wander lower and mouths at Tony’s jaw, then at his neck. Tony throws his head back - it meets the tree with a dull _thud_ \- and bares his throat, trying to arch into Loki’s body when he feels teeth scraping over his skin. He realizes that Loki’s hands are somewhere on his chest, divesting him of his waistcoat, and a few seconds later his shirt is also gone. Loki touches his chest and explores every muscle, every patch of skin.

But then his hands suddenly are on Tony’s thighs and hoist him up with an effortlessness that maybe shouldn’t make Tony moan as he does. He wraps his legs around Loki’s legs, relishing the low, throaty sound Loki makes in reaction. Tony twines his arms around the other god’s shoulders and kisses him again. Loki is hard, already rolling his hips, and Tony wants to press himself against Loki but doesn’t find the leverage.

He doesn’t know how or when, but suddenly Loki steps away from the tree, Tony still in his arms. Loki manages to lower him to the ground without it being rough or sudden, and then he immediately crawls up Tony’s body, pinning him to the ground. His lips are on Tony's mouth, on his throat, on his chest while his hands tug at Tony's pants, somehow getting them and his boots off. Tony catches the glimpse of a grin and dimples, then Loki trails his lips and tongue down Tony's body again and - _oh_ \- swallows him down to the hilt.

Tony cries out - shit, he didn't expect Loki to do _this_ \- and tries to buck his hips, but Loki's hands keep them still. Loki's tongue is _divine_ (of course it is) and Tony can't even think anymore, his mind already going blank -

But Loki pulls off just in time, but not quickly enough that Tony doesn't feel the vibrations of his soft chuckle. Tony frowns at that and forces himself to open his eyes - when did he close them, anyway? Loki's hands stroke up his chest and then he supports himself on the ground next to Tony's head, grinning down at him.

“A little ahead of time, are you?”, he asks nonchalantly, and Tony scowls at him.

“Shut up”, he says and pulls Loki down to kiss him again. Loki chuckles again, the sound so giddy and happy that Tony can't even try to be angry with him. And fine, Loki can mock him if he wants - he doesn't need to know that this is, for all intents and purposes, Tony's first time.

Loki lets Tony roll them both over, grabbing Tony's thighs when he straddles him. Tony notices that somehow, maybe by magic, Loki has lost his pants, too. He leans down so they can keep kissing, and it's Loki's hand that sneaks between their bodies not long after and grabs both of their cocks, rubbing them together.

It's a bit of a haze, then - Tony loses track of time, hel, or _everything_ . He knows that his hips are thrusting and that Loki is kissing him and Loki's magic is _flooding_ him, and Tony loses himself in the simple _wholeness_ of it all.

After, he lets himself collapse on top of Loki, coming back to himself only slowly. Loki’s chest is also heaving with still ragged breaths and after Tony wonders if he should get off, but Loki doesn’t let him. He’s already wrapped his arms around Tony, keeping him right where he is, so Tony just relaxes and rests his head on Loki’s shoulder. Loki kisses his temple and draws lazy patterns on his back, and Tony smiles.

After some time, Loki’s hand stops moving, and since Tony quite liked the attention he makes a protesting sound. Loki ignores him, though, so Tony lifts his head to look at him. He finds Loki looking up at the sky, eyes wide, lips parted.

“Loki? You okay?”

Loki’s eyes flicker to meet Tony’s, just briefly. “Yes”, he breathes, tone absent. “I am just… looking.”

Tony raises his brows, but Loki doesn’t say anything else. Tony glances up, frowning, and after a moment stretches his leg to give the pine a gentle nudge. The tree obeys, shakes her crown and moves her branches out of the way, giving Loki a better view of the sky. Tony wonders how long it’s been since Loki has seen it.

Tony rolls off Loki, but stays close to him. He props himself up on his elbow and watches, his fingers stroking over Loki’s chest. Loki barely seems to notice - or maybe he does, maybe he notices both Tony’s touches and his looks, because eventually he speaks. His voice is rough.

“They called me Skywalker.”

Tony studies Loki’s face. “Who?”

“The Aesir, the Vanir -” Loki stops and lightly shakes his head, still looking up rather than at Tony. “It was one of my many nicknames. Maybe the one I liked best.”

“Why did you like it?”

“It was...” Loki hesitates. “Accurate, I think. Nobody could walk the branches of Yggdrasil like I could. I knew a million secret pathways, but I did not even need them to jump between the worlds. It never took me longer than a few seconds.”

Tony blinks, impressed. As it seems, _he_ has skywalked, too, at least once - to Asgard. But that had weared him out so much that he can hardly think about it as practical means of transport. He is too stunned to say anything, but Loki already continues, anyway.

“I was still very young when I started to explore Jotunheim.” Another brief glance in Tony’s direction, a faint smile. “Younger than you. I met a giantess - She was from a mountain tribe. Her name was Angrboða.”

Everybody knows that the mountain Jotnar are the least dangerous, the most civil. It’s told that the Frost Giants were the worst, but there isn’t much left of them. Tony knows where Loki is going with this and while Tony isn’t sure if he wants to hear the whole story, if he even _cares_ about it, he will listen to whatever Loki needs him to hear.

“We were in love, I think”, Loki adds with a dismissive shrug. “We were together for some decades, in secret. I could not let anybody know. The Aesir wouldn’t have approved, of course.” He pauses, sorts his thoughts. “We had three children. Two boys, first, and then Hel.”

Tony nods. “Fenrir told me about her.”

Loki briefly frowns at that, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he says, “She was born… different.”

“Different?”

“She took after me”, Loki says quietly. “In every way. Half of her body was blue when she was born, with lighter lines and… red eyes. Like a Frost Giant.” He smiles, and it looks very bitter. “I didn’t understand at first, of course - I did not know yet. I was sure that I was her father, her other half looked just like me. We thought she might have been cursed… ” He shakes his head. “I spoke to the Queen, my -”

Loki doesn’t finish the sentence, so Tony fills in, “Your mother.”

Finally, Loki looks at him again, _properly._ He looks utterly confused.

“I met her”, Tony explains. “When I was in Asgard?”

“Oh.” Loki blinks, then frowns, and averts his eyes again. “Yes, Thor told me.”

“What happened then?”

Loki sighs. “She told me the truth. I am not… I am not _this_. This is not what I actually look like.”

“It’s fine”, Tony says, but Loki shakes his head again. He sits up, shrugs off Tony’s hands.

“I grew up in Asgard”, he says, his tone so even that Tony _knows_ that it’s forced. “As their second prince, even. And when I went to my _father_ to demand an explanation, he just wanted to keep it all a secret. I agreed, at first, because I needed to keep my family safe.”

Tony doesn’t know what to say, so he just puts his arms around Loki’s shoulders from behind and rests his chin on the older god’s shoulders. The tension bleeds out of Loki’s body, suddenly, and when he continues, he just sounds defeated.

“Angrboða was found dead a few days later. She had died protecting our sons, who were then brought to Asgard. Hel was still with me. Odin wanted to kill them all. I think I lost my mind.”

Tony swallows thickly. “What did you do?”

“Oh”, Loki says. “I destroyed a part of Jotunheim. I used the Bifrost. It was rather easy. I thought Odin might… be lenient, if I proved that I was loyal to Asgard, not to Jotunheim.”

“Oh”, Tony echoes.

“He threw me into a cell, of course”, Loki continues, his tone still flat. “Thor had left Asgard with my children. And when Odin let me talk to him again…” Loki takes a deep breath. “I made a deal with him. He promised to never touch my children, and in return I agreed to become the King of Helheim and never set a foot into Asgard again. It was very easy for Odin to make everybody forget me.”

“Forget you?”

Loki lifts his shoulders. “Nobody remembers. Well, nobody but my _alleged_ family - everybody else thinks that I have always been the god of death, that I have never lived in Asgard. Some might remember that I am the one who obliterated the Frost Giants, but nothing else.”

Tony stays silent. He isn't sure if he has actually grasped the meaning of this. But well, he didn't lie to Odin - not about this, anyway. He doesn't care what Loki did or what he is, he knows _who_ Loki is, and that's more than enough.

“If this… changes anything”, Loki says, his voice very quiet. “I understand. I should have told you earlier.”

Tony realizes that he has been quiet for too long, and now he leans forward to kiss Loki's jaw, then his cheek. Loki lets out a quivering breath and relaxes, at least a little, but he doesn't look any less sad.

“Not that it matters”, he whispers. “This is… the last time we see each other, yes?”

Tony frowns and pulls away to look at Loki properly. After a moment, Loki turns his head, and he look in his eyes is so desperate that Tony thinks that he _really_ doesn't know.

“Didn't you say that Thor told you that I was in Asgard?”, Tony asks.

“Yes.” Loki furrows his brow, then adds, “It was very stupid.”

“It was very brave, thank you. But you know that I made a deal with Odin, right?”

“I know that he made you promise to take care of your duties and in return swore to leave both you and me alone.” The crease between Loki's eyes deepens. “Which is a rather vague deal. I hope he -”

“ _Loki._ Don't tell me that you don't know the most important thing.”

“He told me that you will stay alive and safe”, Loki says slowly. “I don't know what could be more im-”

He stops when Tony scrambles into his lap and puts his arms around his shoulders, laughing. Tony kisses him and Loki makes a surprised sound instead of kissing back, already pulling away again.

“I don't understand”, he breathes.

Tony runs his fingers through Loki's hair. “I'll have to spend spring and summer in Vanaheim”, he explains. “But autumn and winter…”

Loki's eyes widen. “You mean -”

“Mhhm.” Tony smiles. “My rooms in Helheim are still free, right?”

Loki looks at him like he doesn't understand a word he says.

“I mean, I could also share yours, of course. I feel like that would make a lot of things easier.”

“ _Anthony_ ”, Loki whispers. Tony thinks he isn't even breathing anymore.”You truly wish to…”

“Of course.” Tony leans in, resting his forehead against Loki's. “I told you. I belong with you.”

Loki doesn't do anything but stare at him, so Tony kisses him again. The sound Loki makes resembles a whine, not like he would ever admit that, and somehow they fall down to the forest floor again, the at first frantic kiss turning soft and slow. They end up on their sides, entangled in each other, their faces so close that their noses are touching. They breathe the same air.

“I did not plan on this happening so… spontaneously”, Loki murmurs after some time, his tone soft. His lips quirk into a smile. “Or in a forest.”

Tony smiles back. “Are you complaining?”

Loki snorts. “No.”

“But you would have preferred candle light and rose petals?” Loki doesn’t say anything, and after a moment Tony starts grinning. “You know what?”

Loki arches a brow. His hand comes up to brush Tony’s hair out of his face. He seems a little distracted.

“The God of Death is _such_ a sap.”

Loki’s other eyebrow joins the first, and he’s looking at Tony properly again. “The God of Life is a brat”, he replies dryly.

Tony’s grin widens. “I could make you rose petals. It’d just take me a few seconds, then -”

Loki breaks him off with a kiss, and Tony laughs into it.

 

⸪ ⸪ ⸪

 

_“This is not the last time we see each other”, Anthony promised him, his smile soft._

_“You will come back to me?”, Loki asked, but Anthony's nod was not enough. “Do you promise?”_

_“I promise. I'll be there in a few months, you just have to wait for me.”_

That is the part of their last conversation that Loki repeats in his head, again and again and again. He keeps seeing that soft smile, the gentle eyes. The memory always makes Loki smile - somehow, it feels like the only thing that really _happened_ on that day in the forest. Everything else is so surreal, so overwhelming that Loki can't bear thinking about it for very long. He only dares to actually remember when he is already half asleep, and even then the happiness bubbling in his chest makes him suspicious.

_You just have to wait for me._

Loki waits. He waits and he doesn't watch, even though the temptation to just steal _one single_ glance at Anthony is great. But one single glance would very likely turn into a million glances, and Loki feels that wouldn't make waiting much easier. He also doesn't know if Anthony would be comfortable with it.

So Loki doesn't watch. He spends a lot of time in Anthony's workshop now, and the whole time he wishes Anthony was there with him. But the younger god's robots, JARVIS and Groot are good company, even though they are fairly demanding now and then.

 _Nobody likes having the God of Death near their children_ , Loki remembers thinking several times, when Tony and Groot were new in Helheim. Things have changed, it seems, even though Loki is sometimes still stunned that Anthony has actually entrusted him with his creations. He knows that he could send them back to Vanaheim, because they _would_ be safe there, but… if they stay here, Anthony has a reason to return, yes?

Loki counts the days. And still, somehow, they pass him by, and it's only when Thor visits him and speaks about trees losing their leaves and the weather getting colder that Loki realizes something.

It's the last day of summer.

 

⸪ ⸪ ⸪

 

Tony has been shuffling his feet for a while, standing in front of the door and trying to summon enough courage to enter. It feels like this shouldn't be as hard as it is, it feels _ridiculous_ that he is so nervous. He threatened the Allfather, for fuck's sake, speaking to _his_ father should be easy in comparison.

It isn't, though.

Eventually, Tony sighs and knocks at the door. Of course Howard makes him wait a few long seconds before he invites him in, and of course he barely looks up when Tony enters and quietly closes the door  behind him.

Tony rolls his eyes and walks into the room, stopping a few steps in front of his father's desk.

“It's the last day of summer”, he says, a bit awkwardly.

Howard's hand stills briefly, but then he keeps writing what looks like a letter, probably to one of his dwarfish business partners. “It is”, he says.

Tony sighs. “Look, I just wanted to say goodbye. If I'm bothering you -”

“You are not bothering me”, Howard interrupts. He sets his pen aside and looks up, meeting Tony's eyes. His expression is indecipherable. “You really are leaving?”

Duh. That was the first thing Tony told his parents when he came back from Asgard, _I will move to Helheim as soon as summer's over._ He only just manages not to roll his eyes again.

“Yup, very early next morning. I want to be in Helheim at dawn.”

“I don't remember you ever standing up so early out of your own free will.”

‘Some flowers bloom at dawn”, Tony replies curtly. “I stood up that early a few times this summer.”

“You did”, Howard agrees. He glances down, fingers tapping a brief rhythm on his desk before he catches himself doing it. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure. Loki's waiting for me.”

Howard raises his brows, but he nods and also looks at Tony again. “That is serious, isn't it? You and him?”

Again, duh. “Of course it is.”

“And you are not planning to put an end to it?”

“What is this? You want to see how many ignorant questions you can ask me before I lose my mind?”

Howard gives him a _look_ , but Tony refuses to back down.

“Seriously. You know all the answers already, I've been telling you for _months._ ”

“I know, Tony”, his father says, his tone somewhere between soothing and amused. “I am just trying to make sure that _you_ are sure.”

Tony blinks, because, what the fuck? _Tony_ ? His parents have been refusing to actually call him that for centuries, even though Tony's been sick of hearing _Anthony_ for just as long. The only one allowed to call him that is Loki, okay, because reasons. (Loki says that name like it means the world to him.)

“I'm sure”, he says, a little bit too late maybe.

“Good”, Howard says, then sighs. “Well, I can't say that I am surprised. Maybe it _is_ natural.”

“What?” Tony frowns. “What do you mean?”

Howard lifts his shoulders, looking at Tony carefully. “Loki has been watching you for a long time before you met, even before he knew that you are… well, what you are. We tried to keep you away from him, but obviously we were not successful. Life and death, I suppose. Your mother has been telling me for decades that it was inevitable.”

Again, what the fuck? “You're saying that Loki and me are, what? Meant to be?”

“I - well, your _mother_ is saying that a certain… attraction is natural. You know I don't believe in such things.”

“Sure you don't”, Tony says dryly, which earns him another _look_. Also, can they stop talking about this? “Anyway, I just wanted to give you a quick heads up. I'll see you in six months.”

“Yes, just -” Howard hesitates, but quickly pulls himself together and continues, “Just know that you do not _have_ to stay there until spring. If you want to come back here - even just for a visit, or for any reason at all, really, you will always be welcome.”

Tony gapes at his father for a moment, unable to say anything. But eventually he manages a nod, and Howard also nods and then returns to his paperwork, and Tony thinks this conversation was awkward for both of them.

It could have been worse, though.

 

⸪ ⸪ ⸪

 

Loki cannot sit still. It's impossible. The guards keeping watch in the throne room are already looking at him oddly. But Loki can't bring himself to care about that, not when it is _the first day of autumn_.

He didn't sleep the whole night. He was in the throne room long before dawn, not knowing what to do with himself, and now he is just sitting here and staring at the big doors at the other end of the hall. Because he knows that, when - if Anthony comes back today, Fenrir will greet him at the bridge and bring him to the palace, and then Anthony will walk through these doors.

It takes him by surprise when they actually open.

For a moment, he just stares at the person walking into his throne room like he _belongs_ here. Anthony is dressed in green and gold, and his smile is so bright that it steals Loki's breath even though they aren't even standing in front of each other yet.

The guards close the door behind the young god, and it's the sound of it falling shut that had Loki remembering how to move. He stands up from his throne and walks - keeps himself from rushing - down the stairs, his eyes fixed on Anthony. The god waves at him from across the room, his grin widening even more, and they both quicken their steps.

And then they _are_ standing in front of each other, suddenly, and Anthony looks just like Loki remembers. And at the same time he doesn't, because the last time they saw each other Anthony's face was still pale, his cheeks still hollow from month-long sickness. That's entirely gone now; Anthony looks healthy and alive and _happy_ , and Loki has no idea what to say.

“Hello”, Anthony greets him.

And Loki still doesn't know what to say, but he knows what to _do_ \- pulling Anthony into his arms is easy, as is kissing his temple. Anthony wraps his arms around him immediately, standing on tiptoes to lean his head against Loki's shoulder.

“You really came back”, Loki whispers eventually, unable to keep the words from passing his lips.

Anthony snorts and lifts his head, looking at Loki. “Of course I came back.” He runs his hands over Loki's chest, then grabs his lapels. “I missed you.”

Loki has often dreamed about hearing those words but he has never really imagined to _actually_ hear them some day. He tugs Anthony closer and presses his lips to Anthony's forehead, closing his eyes. Anthony smells like spring.

They stand there like this for a long while, but eventually Anthony pulls away and, without further ado, without _any_ kind of warning, kisses Loki. He _tastes_ like spring, too, and Loki could very easily get lost in it all - in the way Anthony leans into his touch so trustingly, in the way his lips slide along Loki's own and how their tongues meet; it's all so _easy._ And maybe does get lost in it a little, because when they break apart, he is panting and his head is spinning, and he _adores_ it.

“Come”, he says roughly, his lips brushing Anthony's cheek. “You must want to see your children. I promise they are fine.”

“I know that they're fine, Loki”, Anthony tells him, his tone soothing. He is smiling at Loki and Loki makes himself smile back, even though a part of him is still expecting this to be a wonderful, cruel dream.

“Come”, he says again, nodding his head.

Anthony chuckles and follows Loki when he starts walking. He even reaches out for Loki's hand and entwines their fingers, so Loki just _has_ to pause and lift Anthony's hand to his lips, just to briefly kiss his knuckles.

Anthony chuckles at that, too. “Sap”, he says.

Loki doesn't have to make himself smile anymore, it comes all on its own. He is about to reply when Anthony stops and stares at something in front of them.

“What's that?”

Loki follows his gaze. “Oh. That - well. I thought you might… appreciate that.”

Anthony is still staring at the two thrones standing at the end of the throne room, on top of the stairs. They are both made of black metal, the green fires making them gleam like emeralds here and there, but the backrests are slightly different. For the seat that Loki has been sitting on for centuries, the metal of the backrest weaves a pattern that resembles flames, while the design of the other throne reminds of… Yes, flowers. Only a few of them, though, and Loki thinks it looks beautiful, but -

“I can get rid of it again”, Loki hurries to say. “If you do not like it, that is. I didn't mean -”

“No”, Anthony interrupts him, still gaping at the thrones. “No, I just - Loki, do you - do you actually _mean_ this?”

“Mean what?”

Anthony looks at him again, his eyes wide. “Do you really want me to sit on that throne?”

“You do not have to”, Loki says immediately. “Thrones are not that comfortable and it gets boring very quickly, but -”

“ _No_ , I mean - do you - I can't be the king of Helheim, you know. And that would look like that.”

That makes Loki frown. Anthony has let go of his hand by now, and Loki clasps his hands in front of him, unable to keep them still. “Why not?”

“Why _not_?”, Anthony echoes. “Because Helheim already has a king?”

“Well, yes, I'm aware”, Loki says dryly. “But why can't it have two?”

Anthony doesn't say anything, just looks at Loki. After a moment, Loki steps closer to him again and takes his hands, giving Anthony enough time to pull away.

“Anthony”, he says - slowly, because he fears that his tongue will trip over the words otherwise. “If you would accept me as your king, I would gladly take you as mine. Helheim has not had a pair of rulers in a long, long time.”

Anthony stares at him for a long time, then he says, “Loki.”

“Yes?”

“You can't just propose to me like that.”

Loki frowns at the reproachful tone. “Why?”

“Because I'm going to cry, that's why.”

Loki blinks, and then begins to smile. “And you call me a sap”, he says. “Do you need a tissue?”

“Shut up”, Anthony tells him and gently shoves Loki's chest. He turns away, then. “I'll take a look at my throne now.”

His grin is crooked and he is _blushing_ , and Loki has never seen anything more beautiful. “By all means”, he says, smiling, and follows Anthony up the stairs.

Anthony is already trailing his fingers over the metal of his throne. Loki feels like is going to burst, but he ignores it for the sake of watching, enthralled by Anthony's smile. Loki sits down on his throne and Anthony looks at him again, his eyes glinting.

“So", he says. “Do I get a scepter?”

“No”, Loki replies. “But I can offer you this.”

He holds out his hand and conjures up a crown. It matches the second throne, but the metal work is a lot more delicate and shimmers golden in the right light, meant for matching Anthony's eyes.

Those eyes widen as soon as he sees the crown; apparently he didn't expect to actually get something like this. He comes closer, dragging his eyes away from the crown to Loki's face. He blinks and starts smiling again, and then he suddenly straddles Loki's lap, his hands coming up to trace the lines of _Loki's_ crown. Loki never wears it, usually, but he knows that it looks good on him. Anthony seems to agree.

“You should wear it more often", he says quietly. He lets the crown be and starts playing with Loki's hair instead.

“I will, if you want me to.” Loki lifts the crown he is holding and carefully places it on Anthony's head. He was right; it does match his eyes. Loki's breath hitches and his mouth goes dry, suddenly, and he realizes that this is not a dream.

Anthony puts his arms on Loki's shoulders, and Loki gently places his fingers on Anthony's hips, the touch becoming firmer when Anthony doesn't protest.

“You know”, Loki murmurs. “You have a whole throne for yourself. You don't have to sit on my lap.”

“Oh, believe me”, Anthony says and leans in, touching his forehead to Loki's own. “I'm exactly where I want to be.”

 

⸪ ⸪ ⸪

 

Tell me you need me. Please.

You are the bones of my spine.

You are the ground beneath my feet.

   You are made of deeper stuff than the earth can give.

•

_“Letter from Hades to Persephone”, by Clementine von Radics_

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop, there it is! The end. ~~Omg.~~ And it's a happy ending, isn't it? Just what they deserve. ❤
> 
> But! It's not _actually_ the end. I've already written a few scenes and will write more about their life after this, because it didn't all fit into this story somehow. There'll be more fluff and also smut, so stay stuned!
> 
> So. Thank you so much to everyone who read this, and especially to those who left kudos or comments. I hope you all enjoyed reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it!❤
> 
> Also!! Thank you so much to [Leikio Ren](https://mobile.twitter.com/LeikioRen/status/1124326068381474816?s=20) for drawing the awesome art!!!

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr :)](https://amidnight--dreary.tumblr.com/)


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